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p M.Havertv.  New  York 


THE 


POEMS 

or 

THOMAS  DAY  I S. 


WITH  NOTES,  HISTORICAL  ILLUSTRATIONS,  ETC. 

AND  AN 

INTRODUCTION, 

BY  JOHN  MITCHSL. 


Thy  striving-,  be  it  with  loving ; 

Tbv  living,  be  it  in  deed. 

Goethe . 


NEW  YORK : 

P.  M.  HAVERTY. 

P.  J.  KENEDY, 
EXCELSIOR  CATHOLIC  PUBLISHING  HOUSE, 

5 Barclay  Street. 

1879. 


CH 


COlA-^ 

ESTNUt  HU-U 


31541 


Brief,  brave,  and  glorious,  was  his  young  carerr, 

His  mourners  were  two  hosts,  his  friends  and  foea  , 
For  he  was  Freedom’s  champion,  one  of  those. 

The  few  in  number,  who  had  not  outstep. 

The  charter  tj  chastise  which  she  bestows 

On  such  as  wield  her  weapons.  He  had  kept 
The  whiteness  of  his  soul,  and  thus  men  o’er  him  wept. 

Byron 


CONTENTS 


PAG  8 

INTRODUCTION,  BY  JOHN  MITCHEL  . . i 

INTRODUCTION,  BY  THE  EDITOR  . . . . ix 

PART  I. — NATIONAL  BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 

TIPPERARY’ 31 

THE  RIVERS 33 

GLENGARIFF 35 

THE  west’s  ASLEEP 37 

OH  ! FOR  A STEED 38 

CYMRIC  RULE  AND  CYMRIC  RULERS  . . .41 

A BALLAD  OF  FREEDOM 43 

THE  IRISH  HURRAH 47 

A SONG  FOR  THE  IRISH  MILITIA  ...  48 

OUR  OWN  AGAIN 50 

CELTS  AND  SAXONS 53 

ORANGE  AND  GREEN 56 

PART  II. — MISCELLANEOUS  SONGS  AND  BALLADS. 

THE  LOST  PATH 59 

love’s  LONGINGS 61 

HOPE  DEFERRED 62 

EIBHLIN  A RUIN 64 

THE  BANKS  OF  THE  LEE 65 

THE  GIRL  OF  DUNBWY 67 

DUTY  AND  LOVE 68 

ANNIE  DEAR 69 

BLIND  MARY 71 

THE  BRIDE  OF  MALLOW 72 


CONTENTS. 


PAQB 

THE  WELCOME 74 

THE  MI-NA-MEALA 76 

MAIRE  BHAN  A STOIR 78 

oh!  the  marriage 79 

A PLEA  FOR  LOVE  ......  81 

THE  bishop’s  DAUGHTER 82 

THE  BOATMAN  OF  KINSALE  ....  83 

MY  DARLING  NELL 84 

LOVE  CHAUNT 85 

A CHRISTMAS  SCENE  . . . < . 86 

THE  INVOCATION 88 

LOVE  AND  WAR 90 

MY  LAND 91 

THE  RIGHT  ROAD 92 


PART  III. — HISTORICAL  BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 

jFirst  .Strus. 

A NATION  ONCE  AGAIN 93 

LAMENT  FOR  THE  MILESIANS  ....  95 

THE  FATE  OF  KING  DATHI  . . . . 98 

ARGAN  MOR 102 

THE  VICTOR’S  BURIAL 104 

THE  TRUE  IRISH  KING  . . . . . 105 

THE  GERALDINES 109 

O’BRIEN  OF  ARA 114 

EMMELINE  TALBOT 116 

O’SULLIVAN’S  RETURN 122 

THE  FATE  OF  THE  O’SULLIVANS  . . .126 

THE  SACK  OF  BALTIMORE  . . . .132 

LAMENT  FOR  THE  DEATH  OF  OWEN  ROE  O’NEILL  137 

A RALLY  FOR  IRELAND 140 

THE  BATTLE  OF  LIMERICK  ....  143 


CONTENTS. 


PART  IV.- —HISTORICAL  BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


PAGS 

THE  PENAL  DAYS 147 

THE  DEATH  OF  SARSFJELD  . . . .150 

THE  SURPRISE  OF  CREMONA  ....  151 

THE  FLOWER  OF  FINAE 154 

THE  GIRL  I LEFT  BEHIND  ME  . . . . 156 

glare’s  dragoons  . . . . . .158 

WHEN  SOUTH  WINDS  BLOW  . . . 161 

THE  BATTLE-EVE  OF  THE  BRIGADE  . . .162 

FONTENOY 164 

THE  DUNGANNON  CONVENTION  . . . .168 

SONG  OF  THE  VOLUNTEERS  OF  1782  . . 171 

THE  MEN  OF  ’EIGHTY-TWO  . . . .173 

NATIVE  SWORDS 175 

tone’s  grave 177 

PART  V. — MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS 

NATIONALITY 179 

SELF-RELIANCE 181 

SWEET  AND  SAD .183 

THE  BURIAL 186 

WE  MUST  NOT  FAIL 190 

O’CONNELL’S  STATUE 192 

THE  GREEN  ABOVE  THE  RED  . . . .195 

THE  VOW  OF  TIPPERARY  . . . .198 

A PLEA  FOR  THE  BOG-TROTTERS  . . .199 

A SECOND  PLEA  FOR  THE  BOG-TROTTERS  . .201 

A SCENE  IN  THE  SOUTH  202 

WILLIAM  TELL 205 

THE  EXILE 207 

MY  HOME 209 

FANNY  POWER  ...  . . 214 

MARIE  NANGLE 216 

MY  GRAVE  ....  ...  219 

APPENDIX  221 


The  sun  get ; but  set  not  nis  nope  . 

Stars  rose  ; his  faith  was  earlier  up  ■ 
Fixed  on  the  enormous  galaxy. 

Deeper  and  older  seemed  his  eye  : 

And  matched  his  sufferance  sublime 
The  taciturnity  of  time. 

He  spoke,  and  words  more  soft  than  rain 
Brought  the  Age  of  Gold  again : 

His  action  won  such  reverence  sweet. 

As  hid  all  measure  of  the  feat. 


Emerum 


INTRODUCTION 


BY  JOHN  MITCHEL. 


At  Mallow,  on  the  river  Blackwater,  in  the  County 
of  Cork,  and  some  time  in  the  year  1814,  Thomas 
Osborne  Davis  was  born.  His  father  was  by  birth  a 
W elshman,  but  long  settled  in  the  South  of  Ireland ; 
and  Davis,  ever  proud  of  his  Cymric  blood,  and  of  his 
kindred  with  the  other  Gaelic  family  of  Milesians, 
named  himself  through  life  a Celt.  “ The  Celt”  was  his 
nom-de-plume ; and  the  Celtic  music  and  literature,  the 
Celtic  language,  and  habits,  and  history,  were  always 
his  fondest  study.  Partly  from  the  profound  sympathy 
of  his  nature  with  the  fiery,  vehement,  affectionate, 
gentle,  and  bloody  race  that  bred  him, — his  affinity  with 
“ the  cloudy  and  lightning  genius  of  the  Gael,” — partly 
from  his  hereditary  aversion  to  the  coarser  and  more 
energetic  Anglo-Saxon, — and  partly  from  the  chivalry 
of  his  character,  which  drew  him  to  the  side  of  all 
oppressed  nations  everywhere  over  the  earth, — he  chose 
to  write  Celt  upon  his  front ; he  would  live  and  die  a 
Celt. 

The  scenes  of  his  birth  and  bo3Thood  nursed  and  che* 
rished  this  feeling.  Amongst  the  hills  of  Munster — • 
on  the  banks  of  Ireland’s  most  beauteous  river,  the 
Avondheu , Spenser’s  “Auniduff,” — and  amidst  a simple 


11 


PREFACE. 


people  who  yet  retained  most  of  the  venerable  usager  > 
olden  time,  their  wakes  and  funeral-caoines,  their  wed- 
ding merrymakings,  and  simple  hospitality  with  a hun- 
dred thousand  welcomes;  he  imbibed  that  passionate 
and  deep  love,  not  for  the  people  only,  but  for  the  very 
soil,  rocks,  woods,  waters,  and  skies  of  his  native  land, 
which  gives  to  his  writings,  both  in  prose  and  poetry, 
their  chief  value  and  charm. 

He  received  a good  education,  and  entered  Trinity 
College,  Dublin.  During  his  university  course,  his  read- 
ing was  discursive,  omnivorous,  by  no  means  confined 
within  the  text-books  and  classic  authors  prescribed  for 
study  within  the  current  terms  of  the  college  curriculum. 
Therefore  he  was  not  a dull,  plodding  blockhead  “ pre- 
mium-man.” He  came  through  the  course  creditably 
enough,  but  without  distinction;  and  Wallis,  an  early 
friend  and  comrade  of  Davis,  and  the  author  of  the  first 
tribute  to  his  memory  and  his  genius,  in  the  “ Introduc- 
tion” prefixed  to  this  edition  of  his  Poems,  says  that 
“ during  his  college-course,  and  for  some  years  after, 
while  he  was  very  generally  liked,  he  had,  unless,  per- 
haps, with  some  few  who  knew  him  intimately,  but  a 
moderate  reputation  for  high  ability  of  any  kind.”  In 
short  his  moral  and  intellectual  growth  was  slow ; he 
had  no  personal  ambition  for  mere  distinction,  and  never 
through  all  his  life  did  anything  for  effect.  Thus  he 
spent  his  youth  in  storing  his  own  mind  and  training 
his  own  heart ; never  wrote  or  spoke  for  the  public  till 
he  approached  his  thirtieth  year ; exerted  faculty  after 
faculty  (unsuspected  by  himself  as  well  as  by  others) 
just  as  the  occasion  for  their  exertion  arose,  and  nobody 
else  was  at  hand  able  or  willing  to  do  the  needful  work 


PREFACE. 


m 


and  when  he  died  at  the  age  of  thirty-one,  those  only 
who  knew  him  best  felt  that  the  world  had  been  per- 
mitted to  see  but  the  infancy  of  a great  genius. 

His  poetry  is  but  a fragment  of  the  man.  He  was  no 
boy-rhymer ; and  brim-full  as  his  eye  and  soul  were  of 
the  beauties  and  glories  of  Nature,  he  never  felt  a ne- 
cessity to  utter  them  in  song.  In  truth  he  did  not 
himself  suspect  that  he  could  make  verses  until  the 
establishment  of  the  Nation  newspaper,  in  which,  from 
the  first,  ho  was  the  principal  writer ; and  then,  from  a 
calm,  deliberate  conviction  that  amongst  other  agencies 
for  arousing  national  spirit,  fresh,  manly,  vigorous, 
national  songs  and  ballads  must  by  no  means  be  ne- 
glected, he  conscientiously  set  to  work  to  manufacture 
the  article  wanted.  The  result  was  that  torrent  of 
impassioned  poesy  which  flashed  through  the  columns 
of  the  Nation,  week  by  week,  and  made  many  an  eager 
boy,  from  the  Giant’s  Causeway  to  Cape  Clear,  cut  open 
the  weekly  sheet  with  a hand  shaken  by  excitement, — 
to  kindle  his  heart  with  the  glowing  thought  of  the 
nameless  “ Celt.” 

The  defeat  of  Ireland  and  her  cause,  and  the  utter 
prostration  into  which  she  has  fallen,  may,  in  the  minds 
of  many,  deprive  the  labours  of  Davis  of  some  portion 
of  their  interest.  If  his  aspirations  had  been  made 
realities,  and  his  lessons  had  ripened  into  action ; if  the 
British  standard  had  gone  down,  torn  and  trampled 
before  the  green  banner,  in  this  our  day,  as  it  had  done 
before  on  many  a well-fought  field, — then  all  men  would 
have  loved  to  trace  the  infancy  and  progress  of  the  tri- 
umphant cause, — the  lives  and  actions  of  those  who  had 
toiled  in  the  sweat  of  their  brows  to  make  its  triumph 


IV  PREFACE. 

possible.  It  is  the  least,  indeed,  of  the  penalties,  yet  it 
Is  one  of  the  surest  penalties  of  defeat — that  the  world 
will  neglect  you  and  your  claims ; will  not  care  to  ask 
why  you  were  defeated,  nor  care  to  inquire  whether  you 
deserved  success. 

Yet  to  some  minds  it  will  be  always  interesting  to 
understand  instead  of  misunderstanding  even  a baffled 
cause.  And  to  such,  the  Poems  of  Davis  are  presented 
as  the  fullest  and  finest  expression  of  the  national  sen- 
timent that  in  1843  shook  the  British  empire  to  its  base, 
and  was  buried  ignominiously  in  the  Famine-graves  of 
48 — not  without  hope  of  a happy  resurrection. 

To  characterize  shortly  the  poetry  of  Davis — its  main 
strength  and  beauty  lies  in  its  simple  passion.  Its  exe- 
cution is  unequal ; and  in  some  of  the  finest  of  his  pieces 
any  magazine-critic  can  point  out  weak  or  unmusical 
verses.  But  all  through  these  ringing  lyrics  there  is  a 
direct,  manly,  hearty,  human  feeling,  with  here  and 
there  a line  or  passage  of  such  passing  melody  and 
beauty  that  once  read  it  haunts  the  ear  and  heart 
for  ever. 

“ What  thoughts  were  mine  in  early  youth  ' 

Like  some  old  Irish  song , 

Brimful  of  love,  and  life,  and  truth, 

My  spirit  gushed  along.” 

And  in  that  exquisite  song,  “The  Rivers.”  Let  any  on€ 
who  has  an  ear  to  hear,  and  a tongue  to  speak,  read 
aloud  the  fifth  stanza. 

* But  far  kinder  the  woodlands  of  rich  C-onvamore, 

And  more  gorgeous  the  turrets  of  saintly  Lismore  ; 

There  the  stream,  like  a maiden, 

With  love  overladen 
Pants  wild  on  each  shore  ” 


PREFACE. 


f 


/'  . ' , ' ‘ I 

Who  that  has  once  seen,  will  ever  forget,  old  Lord  Clare, 
rising  at  the  head  of  his  mess-table,  in  the  “Battle-evs 
of  the  Brigade” — 

44  The  veteran  arose,  like  an  uplifted  lance , 

Saying,  Comrades,  a health  to  the  monaich  of  France  !” 

His  “ Lament  for  the  death  of  Owen  Roe,”  is  the  very 
heart  and  soul  of  a musical,  wild,  and  miserable  Irish 
caoine  (the  coronach , or  noeniae) — 

li  Wail,  wail  him  through  the  Island  ! Weep,  weep  for  aur  pride  ! 
Would  that  on  the  battle-field  our  gallant  chief  had  died  ! 

Weep  the  victor  of  Benburb — weep  him,  young  men  and  old  ; 
Weep  for  him,  ye  women — your  Beautiful  lies  cold  ! 

“ We  thought  you  would  not  die — we  were  sure  you  would  not  go, 
And  leave  us  in  our  utmost  need  to  Cromwell’s  cruel  blow — 

Sheep  without  a shepherd , when  the  snow  shuts  out  the  sky — 

Oh ! why  did  you  leave  us,  Owen  ? Why  did  you  die  ? 

For  his  battle-ballads  maybe  instanced  “Fontenoy,”  and 
the  “Sack  of  Baltimore.”  And  his  love-songs  are  the 
genuine  pleadings  of  longing,  yearning,  devouring  pas- 
sion. Perhaps,  however,  the  most  characteristic,  though 
far  from  the  finest  of  all  these  songs,  is  that  beginning 
“Oh!  for  a steed!”  There  he  gives  bold  and  broad 
expression  to  that  feeling  which  we  have  already  de- 
scribed as  a leading  constituent  of  his  noble  nature, — 
sympathy  with  conquered  nations,  assertion  and  es- 
pousal of  their  cause  against  force  and  fate, — and  a 
mortal  detestation  and  defiance  of  that  conquering 
“energy”  which  impels  the  civilizing  bullies  of  mankind 
to  “bestride  the  narrow  world  like  a Colossus.”  This 
sympathy  it  was  which  so  strongly  attracted  him  to  th6 


vi 


PREFACE. 


books  of  Augustin  Thierry,  whose  writings  he  often 
recommended  as  the  most  picturesquely  faithful  and 
heartily  human  of  all  historical  works. 

Space  would  fail  us  to  give  anything  like  an  adequate 
narrative  of  Davis’s  political  toils  through  the  three  last 
busy  years  of  his  life.  It  is  not  detracting  from  any 
man’s  just  claims  to  assert,  what  all  admit,  that  he,  more 
than  any  one  man,  inspired,  created,  and  moulded  the 
strong  national  feeling  that  possessed  the  Irish  people  in 
*43,  made  O’Connell  a true  uncrowned  king,  and 

“ Placed  the  strength  of  all  the  land 
Like  a falchion  in  his  hand.” 

The  “government,”  at  last,  with  fear  and  trembling 
came  to  issue  with  the  “ Repeal  Conspirators”  in  the 
law  courts.  Well  they  might  fear  and  tremble.  One 
movement  of  O’Connell’s  finger — for  only  he  could  give 
the  signal — and  within  a month  no  vestige  of  British 
power  could  have  remained  in  Ireland.  For  O’Connell’s 
refusal  to  wield  that  power,  then  unquestionably  in  his 
hands,  may  God  forgive  him ! He  went  into  prison  on 
the  30th  of  May,  1844,  stayed  there  three  months — came 
out  in  a triumph  of  perfect  paroxysm  of  popular  enthu- 
siasm stronger  than  ever.  Yet  from  that  hour  the  cause 
declined ; nothing,  answering  expectation  or  commen- 
surate with  the  power  at  his  command,  was  done  or 
attempted.  “Physical  force”  was  made  a bugbear  to 
frighten  women  and  children ; priests  were  instructed 
to  denounce  “rash  young  men,”  from  their  altars;  and 
“Law” — London  law,  was  thrust  down  the  national 
throat. 

Davis  saw  this, — vainly  resisted  it,  and  made  head 


PREFACE. 


VL 


against  it  for  a while.  He  laboured  in  the  Nation  more 
zealously  than  ever;  but  his  intimate  comrades  per- 
ceived him  changed;  and  after  a short  illness  he  dlied\ 
at  his  mother’s  house,  Baggot  street,  Dublin,  on  the  16th 
of  September,  1845. 

The  Nation  lost  its  strength  and  its  inspiration.  The 
circle  of  friends  and  comrades, — the  “Young  Ireland 
party,”  as  they  were  called,  that  revolved  around  this 
central  figure,  that  were  kept  in  their  spheres  by  the 
attraction  of  his  strong  nature;  taking  their  literary 
tasks  from  his  hands, — drawing  instruction  from  his 
varied  accomplishments,  and  courage  and  zeal  from  his 
kindly  and  cheerful  converse, — soon  fell  into  confusion, 
alienation,  helplessness.  Gloom  gathered  round  the 
cause,  and  Famine  wasting  the  bone  and  vigour  of  the 
nation,  made  all  his  friends  feel,  as  the  confederate  Irish 
felt  when  Owen  Roe  died  of  poison — like 

4‘  Sheep  without  a shepherd  when  snow  shut  out  the  sky.” 

MacNevin,  who  idolized  him,  was  cut  suddenly  from  all 
his  moorings,  and  like  a rudderless  ship  drifted  and 
whirled,  until  he  died  in  a mad-house.  Of  others,  it 
would  be  invidious  to  trace  the  career  in  this  place. 
Enough  to  say,  that  the  most  dangerous  foe  English 
dominion  in  Ireland  has  had  in  our  generation,  is  buried 
in  the  cemetery  of  Mount  Jerome,  in  the  southern 
suburbs  of  Dublin. 

Fragmentary  and  hasty  as  are  the  compositions  in 
prose  or  verse,  which  Davis  left  behind  him,  they  are 
the  best  and  most  authentic  exponent  of  the  principles 
and  aspirations  of  the  remnant  of  his  disciples. 


v 


INTRODUCTION 


l 


BY  THE  EDITOR. 


It  is  my  sincere  belief,  that  no  book  has  ever  been  pub- 
lished of  more  immediate  and  permanent  interest  to  the 
Irish  People,  than  this  little  volume  of  the  Poems  of 
Thomas  Davis. 

The  momentary  grief  of  the  people  for  his  loss  was 
loud  and  ardent  enough.  I have  heard  some  touching 
instances  of  the  intensity  with  which  it  manifested  itself 
in  thousands  who  had  never  seen  his  face,  or  heard  his 
voice, — to  whom,  indeed,  his  very  name  and  being  were 
unknown  until  the  tidings  of  his  death  awoke  in  them 
the  vain  regret  that  they  had  not  earlier  known  and 
honoured  the  good  great  man  who  worked  unseen 
among  them. 

But,  alas ! regrets  of  this  description  are  in  their  very 
nature  transient ; and  all  ranks  of  the  people  have  much 
to  learn  before  they  can  rightly  appreciate  what  a trea- 
sure of  hope  and  energy,  of  life  and  love,  of  greatnesi 
and  glory  for  himself  and  them,  lies  buried  in  that  un- 
timely grave. 


X 


INTRODUCTION. 


It  has  been  the  peculiar  destiny  of  this  Nation  of  Sor- 
rows, to  lose  by  unseasonable  death,  at  the  very  crisis  of 
her  peril,  the  only  men  who  were  endowed  with  the 
genius  and  energy  to  guide  her  unharmed  through  the 
strife.  Too  seldom  have  Ireland’s  champions  lived  to 
reap  the  mature  fruit  of  their  toil.  Too  seldom  hath 
the  calm  evening  of  existence,  o’ercanopied  by  victory, 
and  smiled  on  by  such  parting  twilight  as  promises  a 
brighter  morrow,  heralded  for  them  that  glad  repose, 
which  they  only  know  who  have  laboured  and  seen  their 
labour  blessed.  The  insidious  angel  of  Death  has  pre- 
ferred to  take  our  chieftains  unprepared  in  their  noon 
of  manhood, — too  often  before  that  noon  arrived,  stab- 
bing them  stealthily  in  their  tents,  as  they  donned  their 
armour,  at  the  dawn  of  some  great  day,  or  mused  upon 
the  event  of  that  encounter,  which  they  had  bent  3very 
energy  to  meet,  and  yet  were  doomed  never  to  see. 

Long  centuries  hath  the  hand  of  God,  for  inscrutable 
causes,  been  very  heavy  on  Ireland  ; and  this  alaeri*  y of 
Death  is  the  fetter-key  of  his  wrath.  May  this  last 
offering  of  our  first-born  propitiate  him,  and  may  the 
kingly  souls  whom  hereafter  He  may  send  among  ur  to 
rule  and  guide  our  people  no  more  be  prematurely  sum- 
moned away,  in  the  very  dawn  of  their  glory,  with  their 
hopes  unrealized,  and  their  mission  unfulfilled. 

Fortunately,  Davis  was  not  a statesman  and  political 
leader  merely,  but  a thinker  and  a writer  too, — mre 
than  that,  a genuine  poet ; as,  I trust,  all  who  peruse 
this  little  book  will  acknowledge.  True,  it  is  a mere 
garland  of  blossoms,  whose  fruit  was  doomed  never  to 
ripen;  a reliquary  of  undeveloped  genius,  but  recently 
awakened  to  a consciousness  of  its  own  power. 


INTRODUCTION. 


XI 


The  ambition,  the  activity,  and  above  all,  the  over- 
weening confidence  of  most  young  men  of  genius, 
secures  for  them  a spontaneous  discipline  in  those  pur- 
suits for  which  they  are  specially  adapted.  Goethe  and 
Schiller,  Burns  and  Byron,  Wordsworth  and  Coleridge, 
too  young  as  most  of  them  were,  when  they  commenced 
a career  of  authorship,  had  written  verses  for  years 
before  they  became  known  to  the  public.  Many  are  the 
recounted  instances  of  precocious  poetic  power,  both  in 
those  who  afterwards  became  renowned  as  poets,  and 
in  men  destined  to  shine  in  far  other  pursuits,  the  first 
exercise  of  whose  intellectual  energy  has  taken  this 
direction.  Even  men  who,  like  Cowper  and  Alfieri,  have 
burst  the  shell  of  seclusion  at  comparatively  a late 
period  of  life,  have  betrayed  in  their  boyish  tastes  or 
habits,  the  peculiar  bent  of  their  genius.  However 
waywardness  or  timidity  may  have  retarded  the  public 
profession  of  their  art,  they  had  yet  some  forecast  of 
their  destiny.  They  knew  they  had  wings,  and  fluttered 
them,  though  they  had  not  yet  strength  to  fly. 

The  case  of  Davis  is  different,  and  altogether  so  pecu- 
liar, that  it  ought  not  to  be  passed  over  in  the  very 
briefest  introduction  to  his  poetical  remains.  Until 
about  three  years  before  his  death,  as  I am  assured,  he 
had  never  written  a line  of  poetry.  His  efforts  to 
acquire  knowledge,  to  make  himself  useful,  and  to  find 
a suitable  sphere  of  action,  were  incessant;  but  they 
tried  every  path,  and  took  every  direction  but  this.  The 
warmth  of  his  affections,  and  his  intense  enjoyment  of 
the  beauties  of  nature  and  character,  of  literature  am 
art,  ought  early  to  have  marked  him  out  as  one  destine*, 
to  soar  and  sing,  as  well  as  to  think  and  act.  But  the 


xii 


INTRODUCTION. 


fact  is,  that  among  his  youthful  cotemporaries,  for  many 
a long  year,  he  got  as  little  credit  for  any  promise  this 
way,  as  he  did  for  any  other  remarkable  qualities  beyond 
extreme  good  nature,  untiring  industry,  and  very  varied 
learning. 

Truth  to  say,  much  of  this  early  misconception  of  his 
character  was  Davis’s  own  fault.  He  learned  much ; 
suffered  much,  I have  no  doubt;  felt  and  sympathised 
much  ; and  hoped  and  enjoyed  abundantly;  but  he  had 
not  yet  learned  to  rely  on  himself.  His  powers  were 
like  the  nucleus  of  an  embryo  star,  uncompressed,  un- 
purified, flickering  and  indistinct  He  carried  about 
with  him  huge  loads  of  what  other  men,  most  of  them 
statists  and  logicians,  had  thought  proper  to  assert ; but 
what  he  thought  and  felt  himself,  he  did  not  think  of 
putting  forward.  The  result  was,  that  during  his  col- 
lege course,  and  for  some  years  after,  while  he  was  very 
generally  liked,  he  had,  unless  perhaps  with  some  who 
knew  him  intimately,  but  a moderate  reputation  for  high 
ability  of  any  kind.  In  his  twenty-fifth  year,  as  I 
remember — that  is,  in  the  spring  of  1839 — he  first  began 
to  break  out  of  this.  His  opinions  began  to  have 
weight,  and  his  character  and  influence  tb  unfold  them- 
selves in  a variety  of  ways.  In  the  following  year  he 
entered  political  life.  But  this  is  not  the  place  to 
recount  the  details  of  his  subsequent  career. 

The  outbreak  of  his  poetical  power  began  in  this 
wise.  In  the  autumn  of  1842,  taking  an  active  part  in 
the  establishment  of  a new  popular  journal,  (the  Na- 
tion,) which  was  intended  to  advance  the  cause  of 
Nationality  by  all  the  aids  which  literary  as  well  a« 
political  talent  could  bring  to  its  advocacy  Davis,  and 


INTRODUCTION. 


xiu 

the  friends  associated  with  him,  found  that  while  theii 
corps  in  other  respects  was  sufficiently  complete,  they 
had  but  scanty  promise  of  support  in  the  poetica 
departmeut.  The  well-known  saying  of  Fletcher  of  Sal- 
toun, — “Give  me  the  ballads,  and  let  who  will  make  the 
laws,” — had  sunk  deeply  into  the  minds  of  some  of  the 
projectors  of  the  journal:  though  I am  told  that  Davis 
himself  was  at  first  not  very  solicitous  on  this  point ; so 
little  aware  was  he  of  his  own  power  in  that  respect,  at 
the  moment  it  was  about  to  break  forth.  But  the  Editor 
of  the  journal  bad  set  his  heart  on  it,  having  before  par- 
tially tried  the  experiment  in  a Northern  paper.  Ulti- 
mately, however,  all  the  founders  of  the  Nation  agreed 
in  the  resolve,  that  come  whence  it  would,  poetry, — real 
living  poetry,  gushing  warm  from  the  heart,  and  not 
mechanically  mimicking  obsolete  and  ungenial  forms,— 
was  worth  a trial,  as  a fosterer  of  National  feeling,  and 
an  excitement  to  National  hope.  But  it  came  not  from 
any  outward  source ; and  thereupon  Davis  and  his  com- 
panions resolved,  in  default  of  other  aid,  to  write  the 
poetry  themselves.  They  did  so ; they  surprised  them 
selves  and  every  body  else.  The  results  of  that  despair- 
ing attempt  have  since  been  made  known,  and  applauded 
in  every  quarter  of  the  globe.  The  right  chord  had  been 
struck,  and  the  consequent  stimulus  to  Irish  literature 
has  been,  and  is,  incalculable. 

The  rapidity  and  thrilling  power,  with  which,  from  the 
time  that  he  got  full  access  to  the  public  ear,  Davis 
developed  his  energies  as  statesman,  political  writer, 
and  poet,  has  been  well  described  elsewhere.  It  excited 
the  surprise  and  admiration  even  of  those  who  knew 
him  best,  and  won  the  respect  of  numbers,  who  from 
2 


INTRODUCTION. 


xiv 

political  or  personal  prejudices,  had  been  originally  most 
unwilling  to  admit  his  worth.  So  signal  a victory  over 
long-continued  neglect  and  obstinate  prejudice  as  he  had 
at  length  obtained,  has  never  come  under  my  observa- 
tion and  I believe  it  to  be  almost  unexampled.  There 
is  no  assurance  of  greatness  so  unmistakable  as  this. 
No  power  is  so  overwhelming,  no  energy  so  untiring,  no 
enthusiasm  so  indomitable,  as  that  which  slumbers  for 
years,  unconscious  and  unsuspected,  until  the  character 
is  completely  formed,  and  then  bursts  at  once  into  light 
*nd  life,  when  the  time  for  action  is  come. 

This  was  the  true  guarantee  of  Davis’s  greatness, — of 
a genius  which  was  equal  to  any  emergency,  which 
would  have  been  constantly  placing  itself  in  new  aspects, 
overcoming  new  difficulties,  and  winning  fresh  love  and 
honour  from  his  countrymen,  and  from  mankind.  A 
character  so  rich  in  promise,  so  full  of  life  and  energy, 
of  love  and  hope,  as  his,  and  at  the  same  time  so  suited 
for  public  life,  is  a rarity  in  history.  Had  he  been  spared 
for  a few  years  longer,  the  world  would  have  known  this 
well.  As  it  is,  they  must  partly  take  it  on  trust  from 
those  who  knew  the  man.  For  none  of  his  writings, 
either  in  prose  or  verse,  will  enable  them  to  know  him 
thoroughly.  As,  indeed,  the  richer  and  deeper,  and 
more  vital  and  versatile  a man’s  character  is,  the  poorer 
fragment  of  himself  will  his  writings  inevitably  be. 

Not  but  that  everything  Davis  has  written,  abounds 
in  admonition  and  instruction,  for  Irishmen  of  every 
class,  and  for  all  in  any  country  who  have  the  sym 
pathies  and  affections  of  men.  But  from  the  activity 
of  his  public  life,  it  was  impossible  that  he  could  writs 
with  that  leisure  and  deliberate  care,  which  the  heart 


INTRODUCTION. 


XV 


and  intellect  require  for  finished  composition.  And  ao 
cordingly,  none  of  liis  works  can  be  taken  as  an  adequate 
expression  of  his  creative  power.  Had  he  lived,  and  been 
enabled  to  shift  a portion  of  his  political  burden  upon 
other  shoulders,  I have  no  doubt  but  he  would  have 
more  frequently  retired  into  himself,  and  thus  been 
enabled  to  give  the  world  the  purer  fruits  of  his  unen- 
cumbered leisure.  But  the  weight  of  his  toil  cut  him  off 
before  that  leisure  came. 

If  anywhere,  it  is  in  this  volume,  that  a key  to  Da- 
vis’s most  engaging  qualities,  and  to  his  inward  heart, 
may  be  found.  But  there  is  not  room  here,  and  I must 
await  some  other  opportunity  of  weighing  the  merits  of 
these  poems,  in  relation  to  their  author’s  character,  and 
to  the  wants  of  the  time  and  country  for  which  they 
were  written.  It  may,  at  all  events,  be  better  done 
when  his  prose  works  also  have  been  given  to  the  public, 
and  the  elite  of  the  labours  of  his  young  statesmanship 
made  permanently  and  universally  accessible.  For  lite- 
rary pre-eminence  was  not  his  ambition  at  all,  and  even 
usefulness  through  the  channels  of  literature,  but  one  of 
the  many  means  which  he  shaped  to  one  great  end. 

For  these  and  other  reasons,  apart  from  his  want  of 
leisure,  and  his  early  death,  his  poems  above  all  must 
not  be  judged  without  a reference  to  his  aims  and  hia 
mode  of  life.  I do  not  believe  that  since  the  invention 
of  printing,  there  has  been  any  volume  of  such  sincere 
effect  and  varied  power,  produced  under  similar  cir- 
cumstances. The  longer  portion  and  by  far  the  best  of 
them  were  written  and  published  in  a single  year  (1844), 
ftnd  that  the  most  active  of  the  author’s  life,  during 
which  his  political  labours,  in  addition  to  constant  writ 


xvi 


INTRODUCTION. 


mg  for  the  journal  with  which  he  was  connected,  wer« 
almost  as  incessant  and  fatiguing  as  those  of  a minister 
of  state. 

In  these  and  in  some  not  dissimilar  instances  which  I 
could  recount  of  others,  there  seems  good  reason  to  hope 
for  our  country  and  our  age.  Novalis  used  to  lament 
bitterly  the  severance  of  poetry  from  philosophy,  and 
^ 6urely  not  without  abundant  cause ; but  with  far  better 
reason  might  he  have  bemoaned  the  divorce  of  poetry 
from  life  and  action.  For  in  no  respect  is  there  a greater 
contrast  between  these  latter  formalized  ages,  and  the 
wilder,  healthier  centuries  of  the  world’s  antique  life. 
Solon  was  a poet,  as  well  as  a statesman  and  sage. 
Sophocles  was  not  only  an  unrivalled  dramatist,  but  a 
distinguished  soldier,  and  in  youth  a miracle  of  beauty 
and  accomplishments, — the  Sidney  as  well  as  the 
Shakspeare  of  that  glorious  age.  Pericles  and  Caesar 
were  orators,  philosophers,  soldiers,  wits,  poets,  and 
consummate  statesmen,  all  in  one.  Descending  to  a 
later  age,  entirely  different  in  character  and  aims,  we 
find  Alfred  teaching  his  people  as  well  as  ruling  them. 
Richard  Coeur-de-lion  was  hardly  less  renowned  for 
poetry  than  for  courage.  Bertrand  de  Born  was  warrior 
and  patriot,  poet  and  statesman,  and  it  was  not  found 
that  his  success  in  one  pursuit  was  marred  or  defeated 
by  his  proficiency  in  another.  Among  the  Moslem 
cotemporaries  of  all  these  men,  abundant  examples 
might  be  adduced  of  such  a combination  of  political 
with  poetical  power.  And  recurring  to  the  early 
dwellers  in  the  East,  above  all  to  those  whom  a peculiar 
dispensation  set  apart  from  other  men,  Moses  and  David 
were  poets,  as  well  as  prophets  and  kings. 


INTRODUCTION. 


xvH 


For  such  is  the  natural  condition  of  health,  in  nations 
as  in  men.  The  mind  and  the  body  alike  are  agile  for 
a thousand  feats,  and  equal  to  a thousand  labours.  For 
literature  is  then  a part  of  life,  a dweller  in  the  common 
landscape,  a presence  in  sunshine  and  in  shade,  in  camp 
and  festival,  before  the  altar  and  beside  the  hearth,- - 
and  not  an  intruding  reminiscence,  an  antiquated 
mockery,  a ghastly  effete  excrescence,  hiding  with  its 
bloated  bulk  the  worth  of  the  present  hour,  and  the 
lovely  opportunities  of  unused  actual  life,  that  ever  lie 
with  mute  appeal  before  the  dullard  man ; and  which 
he  alone  who  feels  the  force  of,  can  enter  into  the  feel- 
ings or  apnreciat©  ths.  worth  of  bye-gone  generations 
too.  ^ 

It  is  only  the  insidious  materialism  of  modern  exist- 
ence, that  has  rent  the  finest  tissues  of  moral  power  and 
dwarfed  into  mechanical  routine  and  huxtering  sub- 
serviency, the  interchanging  faculties  of  man,  making 
literature  itself  a statute-book,  or  a gin-shop,  instead  of 
an  overhanging  canopy  of  the  simple  and  sublime,  a 
fostering,  embracing  atmosphere  to  man’s  every  thought 
and  act.  And  thus  it  is  that  poets  and  philosophers, — 
that  is,  men  of  purer,  deeper,  more  genial  and  generative 
faculty  than  others, — find  all  the  avenues  to  power 
barred  against  them  by  lawyers  and  diplomatists,  and 
are  driven  to  suck  their  thumbs  in  corners,  when  they 
ought,  by  virtue  of  the  fiercer  life  and  more  powerful 
reason  that  is  in  them,  to  be  teaching  the  world  by  ex- 
ample as  well  as  precept ; and  not  by  words  alone,  but 
by  action  too,  by  the  communities  of  peril,  and  the  inter 
change  of  sympathy  and  love,  to  be  filling  the  souls  oi 
men  with  hope  and  resolution,  with  piety  and  truth. 


XV  111 


INTRODUCTION. 


Here,  at  least,  in  this  little  book,  is  a precedent  and 
admonition  to  the  honest  man-of-letters  of  whatever 
class  or  country — that  if  his  feeling  for  his  fellow- 
men — and  who  will  feel  for  them,  if  he  does  not  f — 
should  lead  him  into  political  action,  he  need  not  des- 
pond because  he  is  a poet,  if  only  he  i£,  into  the  bargain, 
a self-reliant  man.  Davis  was  a poet,  but  he  was  not 
for  that  the  less  practical  in  public  life,  nor  did  the  most 
prosaic  of  his  opponents  ever  object  to  him,  that  he  was 
the  less  fitted  to  advise  and  govern,  because  he  occa- 
sionally expressed  in  verse  the  purer  aspirations  of  his 
soul. 

Pity  it  is,  to  be  sure,  that  these  aspirations  had  not 
found  a fuller  utterance,  before  the  fiat  of  death  had 
hushed  to  unseasonable  rest  the  throbbings  of  that  large 
heart.  Fragments  though  they  be  of  a most  capacious 
and  diversified  character,  they  are  yet  to  a wonderful 
degree  its  unaffected  utterance.  Like  wild  flowers 
springing  from  the  mould  in  the  clefts  of  a giant  oak, 
they  relish  of  the  open  air,  and  have  looked  the  sky  in 
the  face.  Doubtless  in  many  ways  the  impress  of  the 
poet’s  spirit,  and  of  the  graces  of  his  character,  is  but 
the  purer  for  his  partial  and  too  late  development  of  its 
loveliest  folds.  Like  the  first  fragrance  of  the  rose,  ere 
its  perfume  becomes  heavy  with  sweetness ; or  as  the 
violet  smells  the  sweetest,  when  hidden  by  its  cherishing 
leaves  from  the  glare  of  the  noonday  sun. 

Moreover,  the  supreme  worth  of  books  is  as  an  index 
of  character  ; as  a fragmentary  insight  into  unfathomed 
worth  and  power.  For  the  man  who  is  not  better  than 
his  books,  has  ever  seemed  to  me  a poor  creature. — 
Many  there  are,  no  doubt, — men  whose  names  are  high 


INTRODUCTION. 


xi* 

in  literature — who  fail  to  produce  on  their  cotempora- 
ries  or  on  those  who  know  their  biography,  an  impres- 
sion adequate  to  the  promise  of  their  writings — and 
some,  perhaps,  who  really  have  no  corresponding  in 
ward  worth.  Allowing  for  the  too  ardent  expectations 
of  their  admirers,  this  indicates  ever  some  lamentable 
deficiency.  One  cannot  help  occasionally,  in  moments 
of  ill-humour,  suspecting  some  of  these  authors  to  be 
paltry  secondhand  thieves  of  other  men’s  thoughts,  or 
mimics  of  other  men’s  energy,  and  not  as  all  good  writ- 
ers ought  to  be,  natural,  self-taught,  self-directed  men. 
And,  therefore,  in  honest  writing,  above  all  things,  is  it 
true,  that  " well  begun,  is  half  done be  it  but  once 
well  begun.  Goldsmith’s  lovely  nature  is  as  visible,  and 
more  distinct  in  the  little  volume  of  the  Vicar  of  Wake - 
field , than  if  he  had  written  a dozen  Waverley  novels; 
Rosamund  Gray  and  Undine  are  a purer  offspring  of 
their  authors’  minds,  and  a more  convincing  evidence  of 
their  worth,  than  any  congeries  of  romances  could  have 
been. 

And  thus,  perhaps,  after  all,  the  soul  of  Davis  will 
shine  from  this  book,  as  pure  and  clear, — though  not  so 
bright,  or  comprehensive,  or  beneficent, — as  if  he  had 
been  thirty  years  writing  instead  of  three,  and  filled  a 
dozen  of  volumes  instead  of  one.  Ah ! as  far  as  writing 
goes,  there  is  enough  to  make  men  love  him,  and  guess 
at  him, — and  what  more  can  the  best  of  readers  do  with 
the  supremest  writer,  though  he  lived  to  the  age  of 
Sophocles  or  Goethe.  The  true  loss  is  of  the  oak’s  tim- 
ber, the  living  tree  itself,  and  not  of  its  acorns  or  of  the 
flowers  at  its  base.  The  loss  of  his  immediate  influence 
on  the  events  of  his  time,  and  on  the  souls  of  his  co- 


XX 


INTRODUCTION. 


temporaries  by  guidance  and  example, — that  is  the  true 
bereavement:  one  which  possibly  many  generations  to 
come  will  be  suffering  from  and  expiating,  consciously 
or  unconsciously.  So  complete  an  endowment  as  his  is 
a rare  phenomenon,  and  no  calamity  can  be  compared 
with  its  untimely  extinction. 

Undoubtedly  the  circumstances  which  attended  the 
development  of  Davis’s  powers,  are  a striking  proof  of 
the  latent  energy  which  lies  hid  among  our  people,  un- 
wrought and  almost  un thought  of.  Not  that  I entertain 
the  opinion,  though  it  is  a favourite  theory  with  some 
men, — and  one  which  does  not  obtain  the  less  accep- 
tance because  it  flatters  human  nature, — that  there  is  an 
abundance  of  great  men,  ever  walking  the  earth,  utterly 
unconscious  of  their  power,  and  only  wanting  a sufficient 
stimulus,  themselves  to  know  their  power,  and  make  all 
men  acknowledge  it.  A theory  of  life  and  history,  in 
any  high  sense  of  greatness,  to  which  I cannot  assent: 
for  it  seems  to  me  the  very  esseuce  of  the  great  man  is, 
that  he  is,  in  spite  of  himself,  making  ever  new  acquaint- 
ance with  the  realities  of  life.  All  animate  and  inani- 
mate nature  is  in  a conspiracy  to  make  him  know 
himself,  or  at  least  to  make  others  know  him,  and  by 
their  love  or  hate,  their  fear  or  reverence,  to  awaken 
his  slumbering  might.  Destiny  has  a thousand  electric 
shocks  in  store  for  him,  to  which  unearnest  men  are  in- 
sensible ; while  his  own  unhasting  yet  unresting  spirit 
is  ever  fathoming  new  depths  in  the  infinities  of  thought, 
and  suffering,  and  love.  For,  as  the  wisest  of  the  an- 
cients told  the  clods  who  condemned  him, — the  great 
man  is  not  born  of  a stock  or  a stone;  but  nature'a 
wants  are  strong  in  him,  and  the  ties  of  heart  and  homi 


INTRODUCTION. 


xxi 


arc  as  dear,  or  dearer  to  him  than  to  an}^  And  home 
is  the  great  teacher,  in  childhood  by  its  joys,  in  manhood 
by  its  sorrows,  in  age  by  its  ebbing  regrets. 

No  matter,  then,  whether  thought  or  passion  have  the 
mastery  in  the  great  man’s  nature,  no  matter  whether 
action  or  reception  preponderates  in  his  life,  if  he  be 
truly  great,  and  live  through  man's  estate,  he  will  in 
some  way  be  recognised.  Strange  it  were  indeed,  if 
every  other  element  in  nature — the  paltriest  grain  of 
sand,  or  the  most  fleeting  wave  of  light — were  perpe- 
tual and  unlimited  in  its  influence,  and  the  mightiest 
power  of  all,  the  plenitude  of  spiritual  life,  could  remain 
unfelt  by  kindred  spirit,  for  the  natural  life  of  man. 
True,  the  great  man  will  often  shun  society,  and  court 
obscurity  and  solitude  : but  let  him  withdraw  into  him- 
self ever  so  much,  his  soul  will  only  expand  the  more 
with  thought  and  passion.  The  mystery  of  life  will  be 
the  greater  to  him,  the  more  time  he  has  to  study  it ; 
the  loveliness  of  nature  will  be  the  sweeter  to  him,  the 
less  his  converse  with  her  is  disturbed  by  the  thought- 
less comment  of  the  worldly  or  the  vain.  Let  him  re- 
tire into  utter  solitude,  and  even  if  he  were  not  great, 
that  solitude, — if  nature  whispers  to  him,  and  he  listens 
to  her, — would  go  near  to  make  him  so:  as  Selkirk, 
when  after  his  four  years’  solitude  he  trod  again  the 
streets  of  London,  looked  for  a while  a king,  and  talked 
like  a philosopher.  For  a while, — since,  as  Richard 
Steele  ably  tells  the  story,  in  six  months  or  so,  the 
royalty  had  faded  from  his  face,  and  he  had  grown 
again,  what  he  was  at  first,  a sturdy  but  common-place 
sailor. 

But  nature  herself  haunts  incessantly  the  really  grea^ 


xxii 


INTRODUCTION. 


man,  and  nothing  can  vulgarize  him.  And  if  it  were 
only  on  that  account  alone,  whether  tested  by  action,  oi 
untested  by  it,  the  great  man  is  sure  of  recognition,  if 
allowed  to  live  out  his  life.  If  he  act,  his  acts  will  show 
him  ; and  even  if  he  do  not  act,  his  thoughts  or  his 
goodness  will  betray  him.  “Hide  the  thoughts  of  such 
a man,”  says  a sage  of  our  time:  “hide  the  sky  and 
stars,  hide  the  sun  and  moon  I Thought  is  all  light, 
and  publishes  itself  to  the  universe.  It  will  speak, 
though  you  were  dumb,  by  some  miraculous  organ.  It 
will  flow  out  of  your  actions,  your  manners  and  your 
face.  It  will  bring  your  friendships,  and  impledge  you 
to  nature  and  truth,  by  the  love  and  expectations  of 
generous  minds.” 

And  yet  there  is  in  many  of  the  best  and  greatest  men, 
a tardiness  of  growth,  which  either  beneficially  shrouds 
their  budding  graces  from  the  handling  of  impatient 
friends ; or  at  least  sets  at  naught  that  impatience,  and 
huffs  the  scrutiny  of  the  interested  watcher  by  perpe- 
tual new  growth  of  mere  leaves,  instead  of  the  flowers 
and  fruit  he  craves.  Even  where  the  natural  tendency 
is  to  active  life,  such  men  will  for  years  evince  an  awk- 
wardness, a shiftlessness,  and  indirectness  of  aim,  and 
unsteadiness  of  pursuit,-— on  the  whole  a hulking,  slob- 
bery ponderousness,  as  of  an  overgrown  school-boy, — 
which  will  make  men  tardy  in  acknowledging  their 
worth  and  power,  when  at  length,  after  abundant  way- 
wardness, their  discipline  is  complete,  their  character 
formed,  and  their  strength  matured. 

As  to  the  causes  of  all  this,  I dare  not  enter  on  them 
now.  They  all  centre  in  a good-natured  simplicity,  an 
iufantine  acquiescence  and  credulity,  which  makes  succ 


INTRODUCTION. 


xxiii 


slow  growing  men  content  to  be  hewers  of  wood  and 
drawers  of  water  for  half  a life-time,  until  their  patience 
is  exhausted ; or  until  the  trumpet  call  of  duty,  ever  on 
the  watch  to  startle  them,  rouses  them  into  life ; then  at 
length  they  commence  their  labours  and  assert  their 
rights.  In  their  experiences  likewise,  they  are  some- 
times tardy,  and  as  some  ancient  wrote,  and  Goethe 
was  fond  of  quoting: — 

*0  /.(*?  Sapdg  avdpoynos  ov  7 Tai6cverai. 

In  some  such  frame  may  the  history  of  Davis’s  mind 
be  set. 

But  though  great  men,  wise  men,  kingly  men,  cannot 
but  be  few,  good  men  and  true  need  not  be  so  scarce  aa 
they  are, — men,  I mean,  true  to  their  own  convictions, 
and  prompt  in  their  country’s  need, — not  greedy  of  dis- 
tinction, but  knowing  well  the  hived  sweetness  that 
abides  in  an  unnoticed  life, — and  yet  not  shrinking  from 
responsibility,  or  avoiding  danger,  when  the  hour  of  trial 
comes.  It  is  such  men  that  this  country  needs,  and  not 
flaunting  histrionists,  or  empty  platform  patriots.  She 
wants  men  who  can  and  will  work  as  well  as  talk.  Men 
glad  to  live  and  yet  prepared  to  die.  For  Ireland  is 
approaching  her  majority,  and  what  she  wants  is  men. 

And  thus  is  it,  above  all, in  the  manliness  of  this  book, 
and  of  the  author’s  character,  that  the  germ  abides  of 
hope  for  the  country,  and  of  consolation  for  his  loss. 
If  such  worth  could  grow  up,  and  such  success  be  won, 
amid  all  the  treacherous  influences  that  sap  the  strength 
of  Ireland,  what  have  we  not  a right  to  hope  fori 
What  may  not  be  yet  the  glory  and  gladness  of  that 
distant  time,  when  our  National  Genius  shall  at  length 


XXIV 


INTRODUCTION. 


stand  regenerated  and  disenthralled  from  the  shackles 
of  foreign  thought,  and  the  contagion  of  foreign  example 
when  beneath  his  own  skies  with  his  own  hills  around, 
and  the  hearts  of  a whole  people  echoing  his  passionate 
words,  he  shall  feel  therein  a content  and  exultation 
which  mere  cosmopolitan  greatness  is  doomed  never  to 
know  ; when  satisfied  with  ministering  to  the  wants  of 
the  land  that  bore  him,  and  having  few  or  no  affections 
beyond  the  blue  waves  which  are  its  eternal  boundary, 
he  shall  find  his  only  and  most  ample  reward  in  the 
gratitude  and  love  of  our  own  fervent  people  ? 

All!  some  few  short  years  ago,  who  could  look  for 
such  a result  with  confidence  ? Though  some  there 
were,  whom  strong  affections  made  strong  in  hope,  that 
never  despaired,  in  the  gloomiest  season.  Times  are 
altered  since  then.  The  eyes  of  our  people  are  opened, 
and  their  hearts  are  changed.  A swift  and  a surprising, 
and  yet  an  easy  change,  for  a nation  perisheth  not  ex- 
cept by  its  own  sentence.  Blind  though  it  be,  it  needs 
but  be  led  towards  the  East  and  turned  to  the  rising 
sun,  Tiresias-like,  to  recover  its  sight. 

Well,  until  a spirit  of  Nationality  had  arisen  in  the 
land,  and  spread  from  sea  to  sea,  and  was  not  only 
talked  of  but  became  an  abiding  principle  in  our  lives, 
how  could  we  hope  to- have  a manly  book,  or  a manly 
being  among  us  ? Or  was  it  that  the  man  and  the  feel- 
ing both  arose  together,  like  a high-tide  with  a storm  at 
its  back  ? What  else  but  the  fostering  breath  of  Nation- 
ality could  make  that  genius  strong,  which,  without 
such  sympathy  and  cherishing,  must  necessarily  grow 
up  a weakling  ? For  sympathy  given  and  received,  if 
the  life  and  soul  of  genius:  without  such  support  if 


INTRODUCTION. 


XX* 


crawls  along  a crippled  abortion,  when  it  ought  to  walk 
abroad  a giant  and  champion  of  men.  Until  we  had 
proved  ourselves  worthy  of  having  great  men  among  u?,; 
until  we  had  shewed  respect  unto  our  dead,  and  taken 
the  memory  of  our  forgotten  brave  unto  our  hearts 
again,  and  bid  them  live  there  for  ever;  until  we  dared 
to  love  and  honour  our  own,  as  they  deserved  to  be 
loved  and  honoured,  what  had  we,  the  Irish  People,  a 
right  to  expect?  what  goodness  or  greatness  could  we 
presume  to  claim?  Until  all  sects  and  parties  had  at 
least  begun  to  hold  out  a helping  hand  to  each  other, 
and  to  bind  their  native  land  with  one  bond  of  labour 
and  love,  what  grace  could  even  Nature’s  bounty  bestow 
on  such  a graceless  people  ? 

Time  was,  as  many  alive  may  well  remember — and  I 
have  been  often  pained  by  the  feeling — when,  if  the 
report  of  any  new  genius  arose  among  us,  we  had  to 
make  up  our  minds  to  find  much  of  its  brightest  pro- 
mise blighted  in  the  early  bud,  or  stunted  in  maturer 
growth,  by  the  mingled,  chill  of  exotic  culture  and  of 
home  neglect.  In  those  days  we  could  never  approach 
a product  of  the  National  Mind,  without  a cold  fear  at 
our  hearts,  that  we  should  find  it  unworthy  of  the 
Nation ; that  we  should  find  on  it  the  stamp  of  the 
6lave,  or  the  slimy  trail  of  the  stranger.  And  even  as 
we  gazed  with  fondness  and  admiration  on  those,  who  in 
our  evil  days  had  yet  achieved  something  for  us,  and 
given  us  something  to  be  proud  of,  we  still  expected  to 
meet  in  them  some  failure,  some  inconsistency,  some 
sad,  some  lamentable  defect,  and  to  see  the  strong  man 
totter  like  a weakling  and  a slave. 

And  otherwise  it  could  not  be,  in  our  abandonment 
3 


xxvi 


INTRODUCTION. 


both  of  our  rights  and  hope  to  recover  them.  Could 
the  orphaned  heart  of  genius  be  glad  like  his  who  had  a 
parent, — a mother-country,  a father-land  ? Could  he 
who  had  no  country,  or  doubted  what  country  he  be- 
longed to,  and  knew  not  anything  that  he  should  care 
to  live  or  die  for ; or  if  he  dreamed  of  such  an  object; 
had  chosen  sect  instead  of  country  ? — Could  he  be  strong 
in  filial  might,  and  firm  in  manly  rectitude,  and  bold  in 
genial  daring, — or  can  he  yet  be  so  among  us, — like  him 
upon  whose  childish  thought  no  party  spite  hath  shed 
its  venom,  the  milk  of  whose  untried  affections  sectarian 
hate  hath  curdled  not;  but  the  greatness  and  glory  of 
his  country  illumined  for  him  the  morning  horizon  of 
life ; while  home,  and  love,  and  freedom,  the  sovereign 
graces  of  earth,  have  blended  in  one  religion,  and 
strengthened  his  heart  with  a mighty  strength,  and 
chastening  his  spirit  for  ever,  have  made  the  memory  of 
his  young  days,  indeed  ineffably  divine?  Can  he  love 
home  as  home  should  be  loved,  who  loves  not  his  country 
too?  Can  he  love  country  right,  who  hath  no  home? 
Can  he  love  home  or  country  perfectly,  to  whose  aching 
heart  the  balm  of  love  hath  not  been  timely  given  ? 
Believe  it  not,  ye  sons  of  men ! — as  he  ought,  he  cannot. 
As  star  poiseth  star  in  the  wilderness  of  the  illimitable 
heavens,  even  so  the  charities  of  life  sustain  each  other, 
and  centre  in  the  spirit  of  God,  and  bind  all  created 
beings  beneath  the  shelter  of  his  love. 

Bnt  enough, — a better  and  a brighter  day  is  dawning, 
and  the 

“ flecked  darkness  like  a drunkard  reels 

“From  forth  day’s  pathway,  made  by  Freedom’s  wheel*.w 


INTRODUCTION. 


xxvii 


And  our  lost  Thomas  Davis  was  our  Phosphorus,  or 
bringer  of  light ! 

“Justice  and  Truth  their  winged  child  have  found  !” 

But  let  us  not  be  incautiously  hopeful.  Let  as  re* 
nernber  that  the  pestilential  influences,  which  Davis, 
like  all  of  us,  had  to  struggle  with  and  overcome,  are 
still  rife  among  us.  Let  us  not  deceive  ourselves.  The 
miseries  of  our  country  for  seven  centuries  have  had 
foreign  causes;  but  there  have  been,  ever  from  the  be- 
ginning of  that  misery,  domestic  causes  too.  We  were 
divided,  and  did  hate  each  other.  We  are  divided  and 
do  hate  each  other  ; and  therefore  we  cannot  stand.  It 
is  in  many  respects,  too,  an  ill  time,  in  which  we  are  to 
unlearn  these  errors,  and  abjure  this  vice,  if  ever  we 
abjure  it.  But  He  who  sent  the  disease  will  send  the 
healing  too.  Ah,  why  were  we  not  reconciled  among 
ourselves,  in  earlier,  in  better  times  than  these?  The 
fruit  of  our  reconciliation  then  would  have  been  greater 
far  than  ever  it  can  be  now.  Our  native  laws,  and  in- 
stitutions, and  language,  were  not  then  withered  away. 
The  trees  which  our  forefathers  planted,  had  yet  firm 
root  in  the  land.  But  now,  in  the  old  age  of  our  Na- 
tion, we  have  had  to  begin  life  again,  and  with  delibe- 
rate effort,  and  the  straining  of  every  nerve,  to  repeat 
those  toils,  which  the  gladness  of  youth  made  light  for 
our  fathers  long  ages  ago.  And  this  autumn  blossom  of 
our  glory  may  go,  too,  as  tribute  to  swell  the  renown  of 
those  who  so  long  enslaved  us.  Yet  it  is  the  best  we 
can  do.  There  are  millions  of  sad  hearts  in  our  land 
Are  the}7  to  be  so  for  ever?  There  are  millions  who 
have  not  food.  Are  they  never  to  be  filled?  Happy  are 


xxviii 


INTRODUCTION. 


you,  after  all,  0 youth  of  Ireland  I fortunate  if  you  but 
knew  it,  for  if  ever  a generation  had,  in  hope,  something 
worth  living  for,  and  in  sacrifice,  something  worth  dying 
for,  that  blessed  lot  is  yours. 

And  here,  youth  of  Ireland ! in  this  little  book  is  a 
Psalter  of  Nationality,  in  which  every  aspiration  of 
your  hearts  will  meet  its  due  response, — your  every  aim 
and  effort,  encouragement  and  sympathy,  and  wisest 
admonition.  High  were  the  hopes  of  our  young  poet 
patriot,  and  unforeseen  by  him  and  all  the  stroke  of  fate 
which  was  to  call  him  untimely  away.  The  greater 
need  that  you  should  discipline  and  strengthen  your 
souls,  and  bring  the  aid  of  many,  to  what  the  genius  of 
him  who  is  gone  might  have  contributed  more  than  all. 
Hive  up  strength  and  knowledge.  Be  straightforward, 
and  sincere,  and  resolute,  and  undisnm’ed  as  he  was ; 
and  God  will  yet  reward  your  truth  and  love,  and  blesi 
the  land  whose  sons  you  boast  yourselves  to  be. 


20 th  April , 1846. 


1 fc. 


PART  I 


jMattal  Mkh  nnir  c$nttg0. 


'*  National  Poetry  is  the  very  flowering  of  the  soul,  the  greatest 
svidence  of  its  health,  the  greatest  excellence  of  its  beauty.  Its  me- 
lody is  balsam  to  the  senses.  It  is  the  playfellow  of  Childhood,  ripens 
into  the  companion  of  Manhood,  consoles  Age.  It  presents  the  most 
dramatic  events,  the  largest  characters,  the  most  impressive  scenes, 
and  the  deepest  passions,  in  the  language  most  familiar  to  us.  It 
magnifies  and  ennobles  onr  hearts,  our  intellects,  our  country,  and 
our  countrymen, — binds  us  to  the  land  by  its  condensed  and  gem-like 
history ; to  the  future  by  example  and  by  aspiration.  It  solaces  ut 
in  travel,  fires  us  in  action,  prompts  our  invention,  sheds  a grace 
beyond  the  power  of  luxury  round  our  homes,  is  the  recognized  envoy 
of  our  minds  among  all  mankind,  and  to  all  time.” — Davis’s  Essays, 


TIPPERARY. 

Air  — Original .* 

I. 

Let  Britain  boast  her  British  hosts, 
About  them  all  right  little  care  we ; 
Not  British  seas  nor  British  coasts 
Can  match  the  man  of  Tipperary ! 

• Vide  “ Spirit  of  the  Nation,”  4to.  p.  84. 


32 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


II. 

Tall  is  his  form,  his  heart  is  warm, 

His  spirit  light  as  any  fairy — 

His  wrath  is  fearful  as  the  storm 

That  sweeps  The  Hills  of  Tipperary ! 


m. 

Lead  him  to  fight  for  native  land, 

His  is  no  courage  cold  and  wary ; 

The  troops  live  not  on  earth  would  stand 
The  headlong  Charge  of  Tipperary  ! 

IV. 

Yet  meet  him  in  his  cabin  rude, 

Or  dancing  with  his  dark-haired  Maryg 
You’d  swear  they  knew  no  other  mood 
But  Mirth  and  Love  in  Tipperary ! 


v. 

You’re  free  to  share  his  scanty  meal, 
His  plighted  word  he’ll  never  vary— 
In  vain  they  tried  with  gold  and  steel 
To  shake  The  Faith  of  Tipperary ! 


VI. 

Soft  is  his  caxlirHs  sunny  eye, 

Her  mien  is  mild,  her  step  is  airy, 
Her  heart  is  fond,  her  soul  is  high — 
Oh ! she’s  The  Pride  of  Tipperary ! 


TIPPERARY. 


33 


VII. 

Let  Britain  brag  her  motley  rag ; 

We’ll  lift  The  Green  more  proud  and  airy 
Be  mine  the  lot  to  bear  that  flag, 

And  head  The  Men  of  Tipperary ! 

vm. 

Though  Britain  boasts  her  British  hosts, 
About  them  all  right  little  care  we— 
Give  us,  to  guard  our  native  coasts, 

The  Matchless  Men  of  Tipperary ! 


THE  RIVERS. 

Air — Kathleen  O' More. 

i. 

There’s  a far-famed  Black  water  that  runs  to  Loch 
Neagh, 

There’s  a fairer  Blackwater  that  runs  to  the  sea— 

The  glory  of  Ulster, 

The  beauty  of  Munster, 

These  twin  rivers  be. 


34 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


n. 

From  the  banks  of  that  river  Benburb’s  towers  arise ; 
This  stream  shines  as  bright  as  a tear  from  sweet  eyes 
This  fond  as  a young  bride, 

That  with  foeman’s  blood  dyed — 

Both  dearly  we  prize. 


m. 

Deep  sunk  in  that  bed  is  the  sword  of  Monroe, 
Since,  ’twixt  it  and  Donagh,  he  met  Owen  Roe, 
And  Charlemont’s  cannon 
Slew  many  a man  on 

These  meadows  below. 

IV. 

The  shrines  of  Armagh  gleam  far  over  yon  lea, 
Nor  afar  is  Dungannon  that  nursed  liberty, 

And  yonder  Red  Hugh 
Marshal  Bagenal  o’erthrew 

On  Beal-an-atha-Buidhe.* 

v. 

But  far  kinder  the  woodlands  of  rich  Convamore, 
And  more  gorgeous  the  turrets  of  saintly  Lismore ; 
There  the  stream,  like  a maiden 
With  love  overladen, 

Pants  Wild  on  .each  shore. 

• Vulgo , Ballanabwee — the  mouth  of  the  yellow  ford. 


THE  RIVERS. 


35 


VI. 

Its  rocks  rise  like  statues,  tall,  stately,  and  fair,  [air, 

And  the  trees,  and  the  flowers,  and  the  mountains,  and 
With  Wonder’s  soul  near  you, 

To  share  with,  and  cheer  you, 

Make  Paradise  there. 

VII. 

T would  rove  by  that  stream,  ere  my  flag  I unrolled ; 

I would  fly  to  these  banks  my  betrothed  to  enfold— 
The  pride  of  our  sire-land, 

The  Eden  of  Ireland, 

More  precious  than  gold. 

VIII. 

May  their  borders  be  free  from  oppression  and  blight 

May  their  daughters  and  sons  ever  fondly  unite — 

The  glory  of  Ulster, 

The  beauty  of  Munster, 

Our  strength  and  delight. 


GLENGARIFF. 

Air. — O’  SullivarCs  March. 

i. 

I WAnrERED  at  eve  by  GlengarifFs  sweet  water, 
Half  in  the  shade,  and  half  in  the  moon, 


56 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


And  thought  of  the  time  when  the  Sacsanach  slaughter 
Reddened  the  night  and  darkened  the  noon ; 

Mo  nuar  ! mo  nuar  ! mo  nuar  /*  I said, — 

When  I think,  in  this  valley  and  sky — 

Where  true  lovers  and  poets  should  sigh— 

Of  the  time  when  its  chieftain  O’Sullivan  fled,  f 


ii. 

Then  my  mind  went  along  with  O’Sullivan  marching 
Over  Musk’ry’s  moors  and  Ormond’s  plain, 

His  curachs  the  waves  of  the  Shannon  o’erarching, 
And  his  pathway  mile-marked  with  the  slain : 

Mo  nuar ! mo  nuar  ! mo  nuar ! I said, — 

Yet  ’twas  better  far  from  you  to  go, 

And  to  battle  with  torrent  and  foe, 

Than  linger  as  slaves  where  your  sweet  waters  spread. 


m. 

But  my  fancy  burst  on,  like  a clan  o’er  the  border, 
To  times  that  seemed  almost  at  hand, 

When  grasping  her  banner,  old  Erin’s  Lamh  Laidh 
Alone  shall  rule  over  the  rescued  land ; 

O baotho  ! O baotho ! O baotho ! J I said, — 

Be  our  marching  as  steady  and  strong, 

And  freemen  our  valleys  shall  throng, 

When  the  last  of  our  foemen  is  vanquished  and  fled ! 


• “ Alas !’ 


t “ Oh,  fine.” 


f Vide  post , page  126 


THE  WEST’S  ASLEEP. 


37 


THE  WEST’S  ASLEEP. 

Air — The  Brink  of  the  White  Rocks . 

i. 

When  all  beside  a vigil  keep, 

The  West’s  asleep,  the  West’s  asleep— 
Alas ! and  well  may  Erin  weep, 

When  Connaught  lies  in  slumber  deep. 
There  lake  and  plain  smile  fair  and  free, 
’Mid  rocks — their  guardian  chivalry — 

Sing  oh  ! let  man  learn  liberty 
From  crashing  wind  and  lashing  sea. 


ii. 

That  chainless  wave  and  lovely  land 
Freedom  and  Nationhood  demand — 

Be  sure,  the  great  God  never  planned, 

For  slumbering  slaves,  a home  so  grand. 
And,  long,  a brave  and  haughty  race 
Honoured  and  sentinelled  the  place — 

Sing  oh ! not  even  their  sons’  disgrace 
Can  quite  destroy  their  glory’s  trace. 

iii. 

For  often,  in  O’Connor’s  van, 

To  triumph  dashed  each  Connaught  clan— 


Vide  “ Spirit  of  the  Nation,”  4to  p.  *0 

•4 


38 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


And  fleet  as  deer  the  Normans  ran 
Through  Corlieu’s  Pass  and  Ardrahan. 
And  later  times  saw  deeds  as  brave  ; 

And  glory  guards  Clanriearde’s  guave — 
Sing  oh  ! they  died  their  land  to  save, 

At  Aughrim’s  slopes  and  Shannon’s  wave. 


IV. 

And  if,  when  all  a vigil  keep, 

The  West’s  asleep,  the  West’s  asleep — 
Alas  ! and  well  may  Erin  weep, 

That  Connaught  lies  in  slumber  deep. 

But — hark  ! — some  voice  like  thunder  spake 
“ The  West's  awake,  the  West's  awake  ” — 

“ Sing  oh  ! hurra ! let  England  quake, 

We’ll  watch  till  death  for  Erin’s  sake  !” 


OH  ! FOR  A STEED. 

Air — Original * 

I. 

Oh  ! for  a steed,  a rushing  steed,  and  a blazing  scimitar 
To  hunt  from  beauteous  Italy  the  Austrian’s  red  hussar 
To  mock  their  boasts, 

And  strew  their  hosts, 

And  scatter  their  flags  afar. 

• Vide  “ Spirit  of  the  Nation,”  4to  p 209 


oh!  for  a steed. 


39 


ii. 

Oh!  for  a steed,  a rushing  steed,  and  dear  Poland 
gathered  around, 

To  smite  her  circle  of  savage  foes,  and  smash  them 
upon  the  ground ; 

Nor  hold  my  hand 
While,  on  the  land, 

A foreigner  foe  was  found. 

hi. 

Oh ! for  a steed,  a rushing  steed,  and  a rifle  that  never 
failed, 

And  a tribe  of  terrible  prairie  men,  by  desperate  valour 
mailed, 

Till  “ stripes  and  stars,” 

And  Russian  czars, 

Before  the  Red  Indian  quailed. 

IV. 

Oh ! for  a steed,  a rushing  steed,  on  the  plains  of  Hin- 
dustan, 

And  a hundred  thousand  cavaliers,  to  charge  like  a 
single  man, 

Till  our  shirts  were  red, 

And  the  English  fled, 

Like  a cowardly  caravan. 

v. 

Oh ! for  a steed,  a rushing  steed,  with  the  Greeks  at 
Marathon, 


40 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


Or  a place  in  the  Switzer  phalanx,  when  the  Moiat 
men  swept  on, 

Like  a pine-clad  hill 
By  an  earthquake’s  will 
Hurled  the  valleys  upon. 

VI. 

Oh ! for  a steed,  a rushing  steed,  when  Brian  smote 
down  the  Dane, 

Or  a place  beside  great  Aodh  O’Neill,  when  Bagenal 
the  bold  was  slain, 

Or  a waving  crest 
And  a lance  in  rest, 

With  Bruce  upon  Bannoch  plain. 

VII. 

Oh ! for  a steed,  a rushing  steed,  on  the  Curragh  ot 
Kildare, 

And  Irish  squadrons  ready  to  do,  as  they  are  ready  to 
dare — 

A hundred  yards, 

And  Holland’s  guards 
Drawn  up  to  engage  me  there. 

VIII. 

Oh ! for  a steed,  a rushing  steed,  and  any  good  cause 
at  all, 

Or  else,  if  you  will,  a field  on  foot,  or  guarding  a 
leaguered  wall 

For  freedom’s  right ; 

Jn  flushing  fight 
To  conquer  if  then  to  fall. 


CYMRIC  RULE  AND  CYMRIC  RULERS. 


41 


CYMRIC  RULE  AND  CYMRIC  RULERS* 
Air — The  March  of  the  Men  of  Harlech,  f 

I. 

Once  there  was  a Cymric  nation  : 

Few  its  men,  hut  high  its  station — 

Freedom  is  the  soul’s  creation, 

Not  the  work  of  hands. 

Coward  hearts  are  self-subduing ; 

Fetters  last  by  slaves’  renewing— 

Edward’s  castles  are  in  ruin, 

Still  his  empire  stands. 

Still  the  Saxon’s  malice 
Blights  our  beauteous  valleys  ; 

Ours  the  toil,  but  his  the  spoil,  and  his  the  laws  we 
writhe  in; 

Worked  like  beasts,  that  Saxon  priests  may  riot  in  our 
tithing  ; 

Saxon  speech  and  Saxon  teachers 
Crush  our  Cymric  tongue ! 

Tolls  our  traffic  binding, 

Rents  our  vitals  grinding — 

Bleating  sheep,  we  cower  and  weep,  when,  by  one  bold 
endeavour, 

We  could  drive  from  out  our  hive  the  Saxon  drones 
for  ever. 


Vide  Appendix. 


4* 


t Welsh  air. 


42 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


u Cymric  Rule  and  Cymric  Rulers  ” — 

Pass  alom*  the  word ! 

n. 

We  should  blush  at  Arthur’s  glory — 

Never  sing  the  deeds  of  Rory — 

Caratach’s  renowned  story 
Deepens  our  disgrace. 

By  the  bloody  day  of  Banchor ! 

By  a thousand  years  of  rancour ! 

By  the  wrongs  that  in  us  canker ! 

Up ! ye  Cymric  race— 

Think  of  Old  Llewellyn, — 

Owen’s  trumpets  swelling: 

Then  send  out  a thunder  shout,  and  every  true  man 
summon, 

Till  the  ground  shall  echo  round  from  Severn  to  Plin- 
limmon, 

“ Saxon  foes,  and  Cymric  brothers, 

“ Arthur’s  come  again  ?” 

Not  his  bone  and  sinew, 

But  his  soul  within  you, 

Prompt  and  true  to  plan  and  do,  and  firm  as  Monmouth 
iron 

For  our  cause,  though  crafty  laws  and  charging  troops 
environ — 

“ Cymric  Rule  and  Cymric  Rulers  — 

Pass  along  the  word ! 


A BALLAD  OF  FREEDOM. 


43 


A BALLAD  OF  FREEDOM. 

i 

The  Frenchman  sailed  in  Freedom’s  name  to  smite  tne 
Algerine, 

The  strife  was  short,  the  crescent  sunk,  and  then  his 
guile  was  seen ; 

For,  nestling  in  the  pirate’s  hold — a fiercer  pirate  far — 

He  bade  the  tribes  yield  up  their  flocks,  the  towns  their 
gates  unbar. 

Right  on  he  pressed  with  frgemen’s  hands  to  subjugate 
the  free, 

The  Berber  in  old  Atlas  glens,  the  Moor  in  Titteri ; 

And  wider  has  his  razzias  spread,  his  cruel  conquests 
broader, 

But  God  sent  down,  to  face  his  frown,  the  gallant 
Abdel -Kader — 

The  faithful  Abdel-Kader ! unconquered  Abdel- Kader  ! 
Like  falling  rock, 

Or  fierce  siroc — 

No  savage  or  marauder — 

Son  of  a slave ! 

First  of  the  brave  ! 

Hurrah  for  Abdel-Kader  !* 


• This  name  is  pronounced  Cawder.  The  French  say  that  their 
great  foe  was  a slave’s  son.  Be  it  so — he  has  a hero’s  and  freeman’s 
heart.  “ Hurrah  for  Abdel-Kader  !” — Author’s  Note 


44 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


n. 


Tho  Englishman,  for  long,  long  years,  had  ravaged 
Ganges’  side — 

A dealer  first,  intriguer  next,  ho  conquered  far  And 
wide, 

Till,  hurried  on  by  avarice,  and  thirst  of  endless  rule, 

His  sepoys  pierced  to  Candahar,  his  flag  waved  in 
Cabul ; 

But  still  within  the  conquered  land  was  one  uncon- 
quered man, 

The  fierce  Pushtani*  lion,  the  fiery  Akhbar  Khan — 

He  slew  the  sepoys  on  th|  snow,  till  Scindh’s  f full 
flood  they  swam  it 

Right  rapidly,  content  to  flee  the  son  of  Dost  Moham- 
med, 

The  son  of  Dost  Mohammed,  and  brave  old  P'  st 
Mohammed — 

Oh ! long  may  they 
Their  mountains  sway, 

Akhbar  and  Dost  Mohammed ! 

Long  live  the  Dost ! 

Who  Britain  crost, 

Hurrah  for  Dost  Mohammed  ! 


* This  is  the  name  by  which  the  Affghans  call  themselves.  AffghajD 
is  a Persian  name  (see  Elphinstone’s  delightful  book  on  Cabul).— 
Author’s  Note. 

f The  real  name  of  the  Indus,  which  is  a Latinized  word. — Au 
thor’s  Note. 


THE  BALLAD  OF  FREEDOM. 


45 


III. 

The  Russian,  lord  of  million  serfs,  and  nobles  serflief 
still, 

Indignant  saw  Circassia’s  sons  bear  up  against  his  will ; 

With  fiery  ships  he  lines  their  coast,  his  armies  cross 
their  streams — • 

He  builds  a hundred  fortresses — his  conquests  done, 
he  deems. 

But  steady  rifles — rushing  steeds — a crowd  of  name- 
less chiefs— 

The  plow  is  o’er  his  arsenals ! — his  fleet  is  on  the  reefs  \ 

The  maidens  of  Kabyntica  are  clad  in  Moscow  dresses — 

His  slavish  herd,  how  dared  they  beard  the  mountain- 
bred  Cherkesses ! 

The  lightening  Cherkesses ! — the  thundering  Cherk- 
esses ! 

May  Elburz  top 
In  Azof  drop, 

Ere  Cossacks  beat  Cherkesses ! 

The  fountain  head 
Whence  Europe  spread — 

Hurra ! for  the  tall  Cherkesses  !* 


’ Cherkesses  or  Abdyes  is  the  right  name  of  the,  so-called,  Circas 
nans.  Kabyntica  is  a town  in  the  heart  of  the  Caucasus,  of  which 
Mount  Elburz  is  the  summit.  Blumenbach,  and  other  physiologists 
assert  that  the  finer  European  races  descend  from  a Circassian  stocks 
Author’s  Note. 


46 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


IV. 

But  Russia  preys  on  Poland’s  fields,  where  Sobieski 
reigned, 

And  Austria  on  Italy — the  Roman  eagle  chained — 

Bohemia,  Servia,  Hungary,  within  her  clutches,  gasp ; 

And  Ireland  struggles  gallantly  in  England’s  loosening 
grasp. 

Oh ! would  all  these  their  strength  unite,  or  battle  on 
alone, 

Like  Moor,  Pushtani,  and  Cherkess,  they  soon  would 
have  their  own. 

Hurrah ! hurrah ! it  can’t  be  far,  when  from  the  Scindh 
to  Shannon 

Shall  gleam  a line  of  freemen’s  flags  begirt  by  freemen’s 
cannon ! 

The  coming  day  of  Freedom — the  flashing  flags  i 
Freedom ! 

The  victor  glaive— 

The  mottoes  brave, 

May  we  be  there  to  read  them ! 

That  glorious  noon, 

God  send  it  soon — 

Hurrah  for  human  Freedom ! 


THE  IRISH  HURRAH. 


4' 


THE  IRISH  HURRAH. 
Air — Nach  m-baineann  sin  do. 


I. 

Have  you  hearkened  the  eagle  scream  over  the  sea  ? 
Have  you  hearkened  the  breaker  beat  under  your  lee  ? 
A something  between  the  wild  waves,  in  their  play, 
And  the  kingly  bird’s  scream,  is  The  Irish  Hurrah. 


it. 

How  it  rings  on  the  rampart  when  Saxons  assail — 
How  it  leaps  on  the  level,  and  crosses  the  vale, 

Till  the  talk  of  the  cataract  faints  on  its  way, 

And  the  echo’s  voice  cracks  with  The  Irish  Hurrah. 


IH. 

How  it  sweeps  o’er  the  mountain  when  hounds  are  on 
scent, 

Howdt  presses  the  billows  when  rigging  is  rent, 

Till  the  enemy’s  broadside  sinks  low  in  dismay, 

As  our  boarders  go  in  with  The  Irish  Hurrah. 

« 

IV. 

Oh ! there’s  hope  in  the  trumpet  and  glee  in  the  fife, 
But  never  such  music  broke  into  a strife, 

As  when  at  its  bursting  the  war-clouds  give  way, 

And  there’s  cold  steel  along  with  The  Irish  Hurrah. 


43 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


V. 

What  joy  for  a death-bed,  your  banner  above, 
And  round  you  the  pressure  of  patriot  love, 

As  you’re  lifted  to  gaze  on  the  breaking  array 
Of  the  Saxon  reserve  at  The  Irish  Hurrah, 


A SONG  FOR  THE  IRISH  MILITIA, 
Air — The  Peacock . 


i. 

The  tribune’s  tongue  and  poet’s  pen 
May  ^ow  the  seed  in  prostrate  men ; 
But  ’tis  the  soldier’s  sword  alone 
Can  r*,ap  the  crop  so  bravely  sown  1 
No  more  I’ll  sing  nor  idly  pine, 

But  tram  my  soul  to  lead  a line — 

A soldier’s  life’s  the  life  for  me — 

A soldier  s death,  so  Ireland’s  free ! 


n. 

No  foe  would  fear  your  thunder  words 
If  ’twere  not  for  our  light’ning  swords^ 
If  tyrants  yield  when  millions  pray, 

’Tis  lest  they  link  in  war  array ; 


A SONG  FOR  THE  IRISH  MILITIA. 


Nor  peace  itself  is  safe,  but  when 
The  sword  is  sheathed  by  fighting  men — 

A soldier’s  life’s  the  life  for  me — 

A soldier’s  death,  so  Ireland’s  free ! 

hi. 

The  rifle  brown  and  sabre  bright 
Can  freely  speak  and  nobly  write — 

What  prophets  preached  the  truth  so  well 
As  Hofer,  Br&n,  Bruce,  and  Tell  ? 

God  guard  the  creed  these  heroes  taught,— 
That  blood-bought  Freedom’s  cheaply  bought, 
A soldier’s  life’s  the  life  for  me — 

A soldier’s  death,  so  Ireland’s  free ! 

IV. 

Then,  welcome  be  the  bivouac, 

The  hardy  stand,  and  fierce  attack, 

Where  pikes  will  tame  their  carbineers, 

And  rifles  thin  their  bay’neteers, 

And  every  field  the  island  through 
Will  sho  w “ what  Irishmen  can  do !” 

A soldier’s  life’s  the  life  for  me — 

A soldier’s  death,  so  Ireland’s  free ! 

v. 

Yet,  ’tis  not  strength,  and  ’tis  not  steel 
Alone  can  make  the  English  reel ; 

But  wisdom,  working  day  by  day, 

Till  comes  the  time  for  passion’s  sway— 

5 


50 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


The  patient  dint,  and  powder  shock. 
Can  blast  an  empire  like  a rock. 

A soldier’s  life’s  the  life  for  me — 

A soldier  s death,  so  Ireland’s  free ! 

vi. 

The  tribune’s  tongue  and  poet’s  pen 
May  sow  the  seed  in  slavish  men ; 

But  ’tis  the  soldier’s  sword  alone 
Can  reap  the  harvest  when  ’tis  grown. 
No  more  I’ll  sing,  no  more  I’ll  pine, 
But  train  my  soul  to  lead  a line — 

A soldier’s  life’s  the  life  for  me — 

A soldier’s  death,  so  Ireland’s  free! 


OUR  OWN  AGAIN. 

Air — Original* 


i. 

Let  the  coward  shrink  aside, 

We’ll  have  our  own  again ; 

Let  the  brawling  slave  deride, 

Here’s  for  our  own  again — 

• ride  “ Spirit  of  the  Nation,’  4to.  p.  308 


OUR  OWN  AGAIN. 


51 


Let  the  tyrant  bribe  and  lie, 

March,  threaten,  fortify, 

Loose  his  lawyer  and  his  spy, 

Yet  we’ll  have  our  own  again. 
Let  him  soothe  in  silken  tone, 
Scold  from  a foreign  throne  ; 

Let  him  come  with  bugles  blown, 
We  shall  have  our  own  again. 
Let  us  to  our  purpose  bide, 

We’ll  have  our  own  again— 
Let  the  game  be  fairly  tried, 

We’ll  have  our  own  again. 


n. 

Send  the  cry  throughout  the  land, 

“ Who’s  for  our  own  again  V * 
Summon  all  men  to  our  band, — 
Why  not  our  own  again? 

Rich,  and  poor,  and  old,  and  young, 
Sharp  sword,  and  fiery  tongue — 
Soul  and  sinew  firmly  strung, 

All  to  get  our  own  again. 
Brothers  thrive  by  brotherhood — 
Trees  in  a stormy  wood — 

Riches  come  from  Nationhood— 
Sha’n’t  we  have  our  own  again  ? 
Munster’s  woe  is  Ulster’s  bane  1 
Join  for  our  own  again — 
Tyrants  rob  as  well  as  reign, — 
We’ll  have  our  own  again. 


52 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


III. 

Oft  our  fathers’  hearts  it  stirred, 

“ Rise  for  our  own  again  !” 

Often  passed  the  signal  word, 

“ Strike  for  our  own  again !” 
Rudely,  rashly,  and  untaught, 

Uprose  they,  ere  they  ought, 

Failing,  though  they  nobly  fought, 
Dying  for  their  own  again. 

Mind  will  rule  and  muscle  yield, 

In  senate,  ship,  and  field — 

When  we’ve  skill  our  strength  to  wield 
Let  us  take  our  own  again. 

By  the  slave  his  chain  is  wrought, — 
Strive  for  our  own  again. 

Thunder  is  less  strong  than  thought,— 
We’ll  have  our  own  again. 


IV. 

Calm  as  granite  to  our  foes, 

Stand  for  our  own  again ; 

Till  his  wrath  to  madness  grows, 
Firm  for  our  own  again. 
Bravely  hope,  and  wisely  wait, 
Toil,  join,  and  educate  ; 

Man  is  master  of  his  fate ; 

We’ll  enjoy  our  own  again. 
With  a keen  constrained  thirst— 
Powder’s  calm  ere  it  burst — 


CELTS  AND  SAXONS. 


53 


Making  ready  for  the  worst, 

So  we’ll  get  our  own  again. 
Let  us  to  our  purpose  bide, 
We’ll  have  our  own  again. 
God  is  on  the  righteous  side, 
We’ll  have  our  own  again. 


CELTS  AND  SAXONS  * 


i. 

We  hate  the  Saxon  and  the  Dane, 

We  hate  the  Norman  men — 

We  cursed  their  greed  for  blood  and  gain, 
We  curse  them  now  again. 

Yet  start  not,  Irish  born  man, 

If  you’re  to  Ireland  true, 

We  heed  not  blood,  nor  creed,  nor  clan-^ 
We  have  no  curse  for  you. 


ii. 

We  have  no  curse  for  you  or  your’s, 

But  Friendship’s  ready  grasp, 

And  Faith  to  stand  by  you  and  your’s 
Unto  our  latest  gasp — 

* Written  in  reply  to  some  very  beautiful  verses  printed  in  the 
Evening  Mail,  deprecating  and  defying  the  assumed  hostility  of  the 
Irish  C’elts  to  the  Irish  Saxons. —Author’s  Note. 

5* 


54 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


To  stand  by  you  against  all  foes, 
Howe’er,  or  whence  they  come, 
With  traitor  arts,  or  bribes,  or  blows, 
From  England,  France,  or  Rome. 

in. 

What  matter  that  at  different  shrines 
We  pray  unto  one  God — 

What  matter  that  at  different  times 
Our  fathers  won  this  sod — 

In  fortune  and  in  name  we’re  bound 
By  stronger  links  than  steel ; 

And  neither  can  be  safe  nor  sound 
But  in  the  other’s  weal. 


IV. 

As  Nubian  rocks,  and  Ethiop  sand 
Long  drifting  down  the  Nile, 

Built  up  old  Egypt’s  fertile  land 
For  many  a hundred  mile ; 

So  Pagan  clans  to  Ireland  came, 

And  clans  of  Christendom, 

Yet  joined  their  wisdom  and  their  fame 
To  build  a nation  from. 


v. 

Here  came  the  brown  Phoenician, 
The  man  of  trade  and  toil — 
Here  came  the  proud  Milesian, 
Ahungering  for  spoil ; 


CELTS  AND  SAXONS. 


55 


And  the  Firbolg  and  the  Cymry, 
And  the  hard,  enduring  Dane, 
And  the  iron  Lords  of  Normandy, 
With  the  Saxons  in  their  train. 

VI. 

And  oh ! it  were  a gallant  deed 
To  show  before  mankind, 

How  every  race  and  every  creed 
Might  be  by  love  combined— 
Might  be  combined,  yet  not  forget 
The  fountain  whence  they  rose, 
As,  filled  by  many  a rivulet 
The  stately  Shannon  flows. 


vit. 

Nor  would  we  wreak  our  ancient  feud 
On  Belgian  or  on  Dane, 

Nor  visit  in  a hostile  mood 
The  hearths  of  Gaul  or  Spain ; 

But  long  as  on  our  country  lies 
The  Anglo-Norman  yoke, 

Their  tyranny  we’ll  signalize, 

And  God’s  revenge  invoke. 

VIII. 

We  do  not  hate,  we  never  cursed, 

Nor  spoke  a foeman’s  word 
Against  a man  in  Ireland  nursed, 
Howe’er  we  thought  he  erred ; 


56 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


So  start  not,  Irish  born  man, 

If  you’re  to  Ireland  true, 

We  heed  not  race,  nor  creed,  nor  clan, 
We’ve  hearts  and  hands  for  you. 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN  WILL  CARRY  THE 
DAY. 

Air — The  Protestant  Boys . 


I. 

Ireland!  rejoice,  and  England ! deplore — 
Faction  and  feud  are  passing  away. 
’Twas  a low  voice,  but  ’tis  a loud  roar, 

“ Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day.” 
Orange ! Orange ! 

Green  and  Orange ! 

Pitted  together  in  many  a fray — 

Lions  in  fight ! 

And  linked  in  their  might, 

Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day. 
Orange  ! Orange ! 

Green  and  Orange ! 

Wave  together  o’er  mountain  and  bay. 
Orange  and  Green ! 

Our  King  and  our  Queen ! 

“ Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day  I” 


ORANGE  AND  GREEN. 


51 


n. 

Rusty  tne  swords  our  fathers  unsheathed — 
William  and  James  are  turned  to  clay — 
Long  did  we  till  the  wrath  they  bequeathed ; 
Red  was  the  crop,  and  bitter  the  pay ! 
Freedom  fled  us  ! 

Knaves  misled  us ! 

Under  the  feet  of  the  foemen  we  lay— 
Riches  and  strength 
We’ll  win  them  at  length, 

For  Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day  ! 
Landlords  fooled  us ; 

England  ruled  us, 

Hounding  our  passions  to  make  us  their  prey 
But,  in  their  spite, 

The  Irish  Unite, 

And  Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day ! 


ra. 

Fruitful  our  soil  where  honest  men  starve; 

Empty  the  mart,  and  shipless  the  bay ; 

Out  of  our  want  the  Oligarchs  carve ; 
Foreigners  fatten  on  our  decay ! 

Disunited, 

Therefore  blighted, 

Ruined  and  rent  by  the  Englishman’s  sway 
Party  and  creed 
For  once  have  agreed— 

Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day ! 


58 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


Boyne’s  old  water, 

Red  with  slaughter ! 

Now  is  as  pure  as  an  infant  at  play; 

So,  in  our  souls, 

Its  history  rolls, 

And  Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day ! 


IV. 

English  deceit  can  rule  ns  no  more, 

Bigots  and  knaves  are  scattered  like  spray— 
Deep  was  the  oath  the  Orangeman  swore, 

“ Orange  and  Green  must  carry  the  day !” 
Orange ! Orange ! 

Bless  the  Orange ! 

Tories  and  Whigs  grew  pale  with  dismay 
When,  from  the  North, 

Burst  the  cry  forth, 

“ Orange  and  Green  will  carry  the  day 
No  surrender! 

No  Pretender 

Never  to  falter  and  never  betray — 

With  an  Amen, 

We  swear  it  again, 

Orange  and  Green  shall  carry  the  day. 


jl  ART  II. 


JSntimtal  JkngH  anti  Sallak 


“ The  greatest  achievement  of  the  Irish  people  is  their  music.  I 
tells  their  history,  climate,  and  character ; but  it  too  much  loves  tc 
weep.  Let  us,  when  so  many  of  our  chains  have  been  broken,— 
while  our  strength  is  great,  and  our  hopes  high, — cultivate  its  boldei 
strains — its  raging  and  rejoicing  ; or  if  we  weep,  let  it  be  like  men 
whose  eyes  are  lifted,  though  their  tears  fall. 

“ Music  is  the  first  faculty  of  the  Irish  ; and  scarcely  anything  has 
such  power  for  good  over  them.  The  use  of  this  faculty  and  thi* 
power,  publicly  and  constantly,  *o  keep  up  their  spirits,  refine  theii 
tastes,  warm  their  courage,  increase  their  union,  and  renew  theii 
zeal,  -is  the  duty  of  every  patriot.” — Davis’s  Essays 


THE  LOST  PATH. 

Air — Gradh  mo  chroide 


i. 

Sweet  thoughts,  bright  dreams,  my  comfort  be, 
All  comfort  else  has  flown  ; 

For  every  hope  was  false  to  me 
And  here  I am,  alone 


60 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


What  thoughts  were  mine  in  early  youth ! 

Like  some  old  Irish  song, 

Brimful  of  love,  and  life,  and  truth, 

My  spirit  gushed  along. 


H. 

I hoped  to  right  my  native  isle, 

I hoped  a soldier’s  fame, 

I hoped  to  rest  in  woman’s  smile, 

And  win  a minstrel’s  name. 

Oh ! little  have  I served  my  land, 

No  laurels  press  my  brow, 

I have  no  woman’s  heart  or  hand, 

Nor  minstrel  honours  now. 

in. 

But  fancy  has  a magic  power, 

It  brings  me  wreath  and  crown, 

And  woman’s  love,  the  self-same  hour 
It  smites  oppression  down. 

Sweet  thoughts,  bright  dreams,  my  comfort  be, 
I have  no  joy  beside ; 

Oh ! throng  around,  and  be  to  me 
Power,  country,  fame,  and  bride. 


LOVE  S LONGINGS. 


61 


LOVE’S  LONGINGS. 


To  the  conqueror  his  crowning, 
First  freedom  to  the  slave 
And  air  unto  the  drowning, 
Sunk  in  the  ocean’s  wave — 
And  succour  to  the  faithful, 
Who  fight  their  flag  above, 
Are  sweet,  but  far  less  grateful 
Than  were  my  lady’s  love. 


n. 

I know  I am  not  worthy 

Of  one  so  young  and  bright ; 
And  yet  I would  do  for  thee 
Far  more  than  others  might; 

I cannot  give  you  pomp  or  gold, 
If  you  should  be  my  wife, 

But  I can  give  you  love  untold, 
And  true  in  death  or  life. 


m. 

Methinks  that  there  are  passions 
Within  that  heaving  breast 
To  scorn  their  heartless  fashion, 
And  wed  whom  you  love  best. 
6 


62 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


Methinks  you  would  be  prouder 
As  the  struggling  patriot’s  bride, 

Than  if  rank  your  home  should  crowd,  or 
Cold  riches  round  you  glide. 


IV. 

Oh ! the  watcher  longs  for  morning, 
And  the  infant  cries  for  light, 

And  the  saint  for  heaven’s  warning, 
And  the  vanquished  pray  for  might; 
But  their  prayer,  when  lowest  kneeling, 
And  their  suppliance  most  true, 

Are  cold  to  the  appealing 
Of  this  longing  heart  to  you 


HOPE  DEFERRED. 

Am — Oh!  art  thou  gone,  my  Mary  dear? 

i. 

*Tis  long  since  we  were  forced  to  part,  at  least  it  seems 
so  to  my  grief, 

For  sorrow  wearies  us  like  time,  but  all ! it  brings  not 
time’s  relief ; 

As  in  our  days  of  tenderness,  before  me  still  she  seems 
to  glide; 

And,  though  my  arms  are  wide  as  then,  yet  she  will 
not  abide. 


HOPE  DEFERRED. 


63 


The  day-light  and  the  star-light  shine,  as  if  her  eyes 
were  in  their  light, 

And,  whispering  in  the  panting  breeze,  her  love-songs 
come  at  lonely  night ; 

While,  far  away  with  those  less  dear,  she  tries  to  hide 
her  grief  in  vain, 

For,  kind  to  all  while  true  to  me,  it  pains  her  to  give 
pain. 


n. 

I know  she  never  spoke  her  love,  she  never  breathed  a 
single  vow, 

And  yet  I’m  sure  she  loved  me  then,  and  still  doats  on 
me  now ; 

For  when  we  met,  her  eyes  grew  glad,  and  heavy  when 
I left  her  side, 

And  oft  she  said  she’d  be  most  happy  as  a poor  man’s 
bride ; 

I toiled  to  win  a pleasant  home,  and  make  it  ready  by 
the  spring ; 

The  spring  is  past — what  season  now  my  girl  unto 
our  home  will  bring  ? 

I’m  sick  and  weary,  very  weary — watching,  morning, 
night,  and  noon ; 

How  long  you’re  coming — I am  lying — will  you  not 
come  soon1* 


64 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


EIBHLIN  A RUIN. 

Air — Eibhlin  a ruin. 

L 

When  I am  far  away, 

Eibhlin  a ruin. 

Be  gayest  of  the  gay, 

Eibhlin  a ruin. 

Too  dear  your  happiness, 

For  me  to  wish  it  less— 

Love  has  no  selfishness, 
Eibhlin  a ruin. 

XL 

And  it  must  be  our  pride, 
Eibhlin  a ruin. 

Our  trusting  hearts  to  hide, 
Eibhlin  a ruin . 

They  wish  our  love  to  blight, 
We’ll  wait  for  Fortune’s  light, 
The  flowers  close  up  at  night, 
Eibhlin  a ruin. 

m. 

And  when  we  meet  alone, 
Eibhlin  a ruin. 

Upon  my  bosom  thrown, 
Eibhlin  a ruin ; 


THE  BANKS  OF  THE  LE2. 


65 


That  hour,  with  light  bedecked, 
Shall  cheer  us  and  direct, 

A beacon  to  the  wrecked, 
Eibhlin  a ruin. 

TV. 

Fortune,  thus  sought,  will  come, 
Eibhlin  a ruin. 

We’ll  win  a happy  home, 
Eibhlin  a ruin  ; 

And,  as  it  slowly  rose, 

’Twill  tranquilly  repose, 

A rock  ’mid  melting  snows, 
Eibhlin  a ruin. 


THE  BANKS  OF  THE  LEE. 

Air — A Trip  to  the  Cottage, 

i. 

Oh  ! the  banks  of  the  Lee,  the  banks  of  the  Lee, 

And  love  in  a cottage  for  Mary  and  me ; 

There’s  not  in  the  land  a lovelier  tide, 

And  I’m  sure  that  there’s  no  one  so  fair  as  my  bride* 
She’s  modest  and  meek, 

There’s  a down  on  her  cheek, 

And  her  skin  is  as  sleek 
As  a butterfly’s  wing— 

6* 


66 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


Then  her  step  would  scarce  show 
On  the  fresh-fallen  snow, 

And  her  whisper  is  low, 

But  as  clear  as  the  spring. 

On  ! the  banks  of  the  Lee,  the  banks  of  the  Lee, 
And  love  in  a cottage  for  Mary  and  me, 

I know  not  how  love  is  happy  elsewhere, 

I know  not  how  any  but  lovers  are  there  ! 

ii. 

Oh  ! so  green  is  the  grass,  so  c.ear  is  the  stream, 
So  mild  is  the  mist,  and  so  rich  is  the  beam, 

That  beauty  should  ne’er  to  other  lands  roam, 
But  make  on  the  banks  of  the  river  its  home 
When  dripping  with  dew, 

The  roses  peep  through, 

’Tis  to  look  in  at  you 

They  are  growing  so  fast ; 

While  the  scent  of  the  flowers 
Must  be  hoarded  for  hours, 

’Tis  poured  in  such  showers 
When  my  Mary  goes  past. 

Oh  ! the  banks  of  the  Lee,  the  banks  of  the  Lee, 
And  love  in  a cottage  for  Mary  and  me — 

Oh,  Mary  for  me — oh,  Mary  for  me ! 

And  ’tis  little  I’d  sigh  for  the  banks  of  the  Lee ! 


THE  GIRL  OF  DUNBWY. 


67 


THE  GIRL  OF  DUNBWY. 

i. 

Tis  pretty  to  see  the  girl  of  Dunbwy 
Stepping  the  mountain  statelily — 

Though  ragged  her  gown,  and  naked  her  feet, 

No  lady  in  Ireland  to  match  her  is  meet. 

H. 

Poor  is  her  diet,  and  hardly  she  lies — 

Yet  a monarch  might  kneel  for  a glance  of  her  eyes  , 
The  child  of  a peasant — yet  England’s  proud  Queen 
Has  less  rank  in  her  heart,  and  less  grace  in  her  mien. 

hi. 

Her  brow  ’neath  her  raven  hair  gleams,  just  as  if 
A breaker  spread  white  ’neath  a shadowy  cliff — 

And  love,  and  devotion,  and  energy  speak 

From  her  beauty-proud  eye,  and  her  passion-pale  cheek. 

IV. 

But,  pale  as  her  cheek  is,  there’s  fruit  on  her  lip, 

And  her  teeth  flash  as  white  as  the  crescent  moon’s  tip, 
And  her  form  and  her  step,  like  the  red-deer’s  go  past — 
As  lightsome,  as  lovely,  as  haughty,  as  fast. 

v. 

I saw  her  but  once,  and  I looked  in  her  eye, 

And  she  knew  that  I worshipped  in  passing  her  by ; 
The  saint  of  the  wayside — she  granted  my  prayer, 
Though  we  spoke  not  a word,  for  her  mother  was  there. 


68 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


VI. 

I never  can  think  upon  Ban  try’s  bright  hills, 

But  her  image  starts  up,  and  my  longing  eye  fills  ; 
And  I whisper  her  softly,  “ again,  love,  we’ll  meet, 
“ And  I’ll  lie  in  your  bosom,  and  live  at  your  feet.’* 


I 

DUTY  AND  LOVE. 

Air — My  lodging  is  on  the  cold  ground. 


I. 

Oh  ! lady,  think  not  that  my  heart  has  grown  cold, 

If  I woo  not  as  once  I could  woo  ; 

Though  sorrow  has  bruised  it,  and  long  years  have 
rolled, 

It  still  doats  on  beauty  and  you ; 

And  were  I to  yield  to  its  inmost  desire 
I would  labour  by  night  and  by  day, 

**^11  I won  you  to  flee  from  the  home  of  your  sire, 

To  live  with  your  love  far  away. 


n. 

But  it  is  that  my  country’s  in  bondage,  and  I 
Have  sworn  to  shatter  her  chains  ! 

By  my  duty  and  oath  I must  do  it  or  lie 
A corse  on  her  desolate  plains : 


ANNIE  DEAR. 


69 


Then,  sure,  dearest  maiden,  ’twere  sinful  to  sue, 
And  crueller  far  to  win, 

But,  should  victory  smile  on  my  banner,  to  you 
I shall  fly  without  sorrow  or  sin. 


ANNIE  DEAR. 

Air — Maids  in  May . 

i. 

Our  mountain  brooks  were  rushing 
Annie,  dear. 

The  Autumn  eve  was  flushing, 

Annie,  dear ; 

But  brighter  was  your  blushing, 
When  first,  your  murmurs  hushing, 
I told  my  love  outgushing, 

Annie,  dear. 

n. 

Ah ! but  our  hopes  were  splendid, 
Annie,  dear, 

How  sadly  they  have  ended, 

Annie,  dear ; 


70 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


Tho  ring  betwixt  us  broken, 

When  our  vows  of  love  were  spoken, 
Of  your  poor  heart  was  a token, 
Annie,  dear 


hi. 

The  primrose  flowers  were  shining, 
Annie,  dear, 

When,  on  my  breast  reclining, 

Annie,  dear! 
Began  our  Mi-na-meala . 

And  many  a month  did  follow 
Of  joy — but  life  is  hollow, 

Annie,  dear. 


IV. 

For  once,  when  home  returning, 
Annie,  dear, 

I found  our  cottage  burning, 

Annie,  dear ; 

Around  it  were  the  yeomen, 

Of  every  ill  an  omen, 

The  country’s  bitter  foemen, 

Annie,  dear. 


v. 

But  why  arose  a morrow, 

Annie,  dear, 

Upon  that  night  of  sorrow, 

Annie,  dear? 


BLIND  MARY 


71 


Far  better,  by  thee  lying, 

Their  bayonets  defying, 

Than  live  an  exile  sighing, 

Annie,  dear. 


BLIND  MARY. 

Air — Blind  Mary . 

i. 

There  flows  from  her  spirit  such  love  and  delight, 
That  the  face  of  Blind  Mary  is  radiant  with  light — 

As  the  gleam  from  a homestead  through  darkness  wiL 
show, 

Or  the  moon  glimmer  soft  through  the  fast  falling  snow 
II. 

Yet  there’s  a keen  sorrow  comes  o’er  her  at  times, 

As  an  Indian  might  feel  in  our  northerly  climes ; 

And  she  talks  of  the  sunset,  like  parting  of  friends, 
And  the  starlight,  as  love,  that  nor  changes  nor  ends. 

hi. 

Ah ! grieve  not,  sweet  maiden,  for  star  or  for  sun, 

For  the  mountains  that  tower,  or  the  rivers  that  run—* 
For  beauty  and  grandeur,  and  glory,  and  light, 

Are  seen  by  the  spirit,  and  not  by  the  sight. 


72 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


IV. 

In  vain  for  the  thoughtless  are  sunburst  and  shade, 

In  vain  for  the  heartless  flowers  blossom  and  fade ; 
While  the  darkness  that  seems  your  sweet  being  ta 
bound 

Is  one  of  the  guardians,  an  Eden  around i 


THE  BRIDE  OF  MALLOW. 


’Twas  dying  they  thought  her, 

And  kindly  they  brought  her 
To  the  banks  of  Black  water, 

Where  her  forefathers  lie ; 
’Twas  the  place  of  her  childhood, 
And  they  hoped  that  its  wild  wood, 
And  air  soft  and  mild  would 
Soothe  her  spirit  to  die. 

ii. 

But  she  met  on  its  border 
A lad  who  adored  her — 

No  rich  man,  nor  lord,  or 
A coward,  or  slave ; 

But  one  who  had  worn 
A green  coat,  and  borne 
A pike  from  Slieve  Moume, 

With  the  patriots  brave. 


THE  JBRTPF.  OF  MALLOW. 


73 


in. 

Oh  ! the  banks  of  the  stream  are 
Than  emeralds  greener : 

And  how  should  they  wean  her 
From  loving  the  earth? 
While  the  song-birds  so  sweet, 
And  the  waves  at  their  feet, 

And  each  young  pair  they  meet, 
Are  all  flushing  with  mirth. 


IV. 

And  she  listed  his  talk, 

And  he  shared  in  her  walk— 
And  how  could  she  baulk 

One  so  gallant  and  true  ? 
But  why  tell  the  rest  ? 

Her  love  she  confest, 

And  sunk  on  his  breast, 

Like  the  eventide  dew. 

v. 

Ah  ! now  her  cheek  glows 
With  the  tint  of  the  rose, 

And  her  healthful  blood  flows, 
Just  as  fresh  as  the  stream  j 
And  her  eye  flashes  bright, 

And  her  footstep  is  light, 

And  sickness  and  blight 

Fled  away  like  a dream. 

7 


74 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


VI. 

And  soon  by  his  side 
She  kneels  a sweet  bride. 

In  maidenly  pride 

And  maidenly  fears ; 

And  their  children  were  fair, 
And  their  home  knew  no  care, 
Save  that  all  homesteads  were 
Not  as  happy  as  theirs. 


THE  WELCOME. 

Air — An  buachailm  buidhe. 


I. 

Come  in  the  evening,  or  come  in  the  morning, 

Come  when  you’re  looked  for,  or  come  without  warn- 

mg, 

Kisses  and  welcome  you’ll  find  here  before  you, 

And  the  oftener  you  come  here  the  more  I’ll  adore 
you. 

Light  is  my  heart  since  the  day  we  were  plighted. 

Red  is  my  cheek  that  they  told  me  ^was  blighted ; 

The  green  of  the  trees  looks  far  greener  than  ever, 

And  the  linnets  are  singing,  “ true  lovers ! don’t 
sever.” 


THE  WELCOME. 


75 


ii. 

I’ll  pull  you  sweet  flowers,  to  wear  if  you  choose  them  , 
Or,  after  you’ve  kissed  them,  they’ll  lie  on  my  bosom. 
I’ll  fetch  from  the  mountain  its  breeze  to  inspire  you  ; 
I’ll  fetch  from  my  fancy  a tale  that  won’t  tire  you. 

Oh ! your  step’s  like  the  rain  to  the  summer-vexed 
farmer, 

Or  sabre  and  shield  to  a knight  without  armour ; 

I’ll  sing  you  sweet  songs  till  the  stars  rise  above  me, 
Then,  wandering,  I’ll  wish  you,  in  silence,  to  love  me. 

hi. 

We’ll  look  through  the  trees  at  the  cliff,  and  the  eyrie, 
We’ll  tread  round  the  rath  on  the  track  of  the  fairy, 
We’ll  look  on  the  stars,  and  we’ll  list  to  the  river, 

Till  you  ask  of  your  darling  what  gift  you  can  give  hen 
Oh ! she’ll  whisper  you.  “ Love  as  unchangeably 
beaming, 

And  trust,  when  in  secret,  most  tunefully  streaming, 
Till  the  starlight  of  heaven  above  us  shall  quiver, 
As  our  souls  flow  in  one  down  eternity’s  river.” 

IV. 

So  come  in  the  evening,  or  come  in  the  morning, 

Come  when  you’re  looked  for,  or  come  without  warning 
Kisses  and  welcome  you’ll  find  here  before  you, 

And  the  oftener  you  come  here  the  more  I’ll  adore  you 
Light  is  my  heart  since  the  day  we  were  plighted, 
Red  is  my  cheek  that  they  told  me  was  blighted : 
The  green  of  the  trees  looks  far  greener  than  ever, 
And  the  linnets  are  singing,  “ true  lovers ! don’t  sever  l’J 


76 


BALLADS  AND  SON.**. 


THE  M/-NA-MEALA. 


i. 

Like  the  rising  of  the  sun, 

Herald  of  bright  hours  to  follow, 
Lo  ! the  marriage  rites  are  done, 
And  begun  the  Mi-na-Meala. 


ii. 

Heart  to  heart,  and  hand  to  hand, 
Vowed  ’fore  God  to  love  and  cherish, 
Each  by  each  in  grief  to  stand, 

Never  more  apart  to  flourish. 


hi. 

Now  their  lips,  low  whisp’ring,  speak 

Thoughts  their  eyes  have  long  been  saying, 
Softly  bright,  and  richly  meek, 

As  seraphs  first  their  wings  essaying. 


IV. 

Deeply,  wildly,  warmly  love — 

’Tis  a heaven-sent  enjoyment, 
Lifting  up  our  thoughts  above 
Selfish  aims  and  cold  employment 


THE  MI-NA-MEALA. 


77 


V. 

Yet,  remember,  passion  wanes, 

Romance  is  parent  to  dejection ; 
Nought  our  happiness  sustains 

But  thoughtful  care  and  firm  affection. 


n. 

When  the  Mi-na-mealo?  s flown, 

Sterner  duties  surely  need  you; 

Do  their  bidding, — ’tis  love’s  own, — • 
Faithful  love  will  say  God  speed  you. 


vri. 

Guard  her  comfort  as  ’tis  worth, 

Pray  to  God  to  look  down  on  her ; 

And  swift  as  cannon-shot  go  forth 

To  strive  for  freedom,  truth,  and  honour. 


VIII. 

Oft  recall — and  never  swerve — 

Your  children’s  love  and  her’s  will  follow 
Guard  your  home,  and  there  preserve 
For  you  an  endless  Mi  na-meala .* 


Honeymoon. 

7* 


78 


BALLADS  AND  SONG 9. 


MAIRE  BIIAN  A STOIR. 

Air — Original . 


i. 

In  a valley,  fur  away, 

With  my  Mdire  bhdn  a stair ,* 

Short  would  be  the  summer-day, 

Ever  loving  more  and  more ; 
Winter-days  would  all  grow  long, 

With  the  light  her  heart  would  pour, 
With  her  kisses  and  her  song, 

And  her  loving  maith  go  lear.j 

Fond  is  Mdire  bhdn  a stair , 
Fair  is  Mdire  bhdn  a stair, 
Sweet  as  ripple  on  the  shore, 
Sings  my  Mdire  bhdn  a stair . 


ii. 

Oh ! her  sire  is  very  proud, 

And  her  mother  cold  as  stone ; 
But  her  brother  bravely  vowed 
She  should  be  my  bride  alone ; 


• Which  means  **  fair  Mary  my  treasure.”  If  we  are  to  write  gib- 
berish to  enable  some  of  our  readers  to  pronounce  this,  we  must  do  so 
fchus,  Maur-ya  vaun  asthore,  and  pretty  looking  stuff  it  is.  Really  it 
is  time  for  the  inhabitants  of  Ireland  to  learn  Irish. — Author’s  Note 

t Much  plenty,  or  in  abundance. — Author’s  Note. 


oh!  the  marriage. 


79 


For  he  knew  I loved  her  well, 

And  he  knew  she  loved  me  tdo, 

So  he  sought  their  pride  to  quell, 

But  ’twas  all  in  vain  to  sue. 

True  is  Maire  bhdn  a stuir , 
Tried  is  Maire  bhdn  a stuir , 

Had  I wings  I’d  never  soar, 

From  my  Maire  bhdn  a stuir . 

hi. 

There  are  lands  where  manly  toil 
Surely  reaps  the  crop  it  sows, 
Glorious  woods  and  teeming  soil, 

Where  the  broad  Missouri  flows ; 
Through  the  trees  the  smoke  shall  rise, 
From  our  hearth  with  maithgo  leor, 
There  shall  shine  the  happy  eyes 
Of  my  Maire  bhdn  a stuir . 

Mild  is  Maire  bhdn  a stuir , 

Mine  is  Maire  bhdn  a stair, 
Saints  will  watch  about  the  door, 
Of  my  Maire  bhdn  a stuir . 


OH!  THE  MARRIAGE. 

Air — The  Swaggering  Jig . 

i. 

Oh  ! the  marriage,  the  marriage, 

With  love  and  mo  bhuachaill  for  me, 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


8$ 


The  ladies  that  ride  in  a carriage 
Might  envy  my  marriage  to  me ; 

For  Eoghan*  is  straight  as  a tower, 

And  tender  and  loving  and  true, 

He  told  me  more  love  in  an  hour 

Than  the  Squires  of  the  county  could  do. 
Then,  Oh  ! the  marriage,  &c. 


n. 

His  hair  is  a shower  of  soft  gold, 

His  eye  is  as  clear  as  the  day, 

His  conscience  and  vote  were  unsold 
When  others  were  carried  away ; 
His  word  is  as  good  as  an  oath, 

And  freely  ’twas  given  to  me  ; 

Oh ! sure  ’twill  be  happy  for  both 
The  day  of  our  marriage  to  see. 

Then,  Oh ! the  marriage,  &c. 


in. 

His  kinsmen  are  honest  and  kind, 

The  neighbours  think  much  of  his  skill, 

And  Eoghan’s  the  lad  to  my  mind, 

Though  he  owns  neither  castle  nor  mill. 

But  he  has  a tilloch  of  land, 

A horse  and  a stocking  of  coin, 

A foot  for  the  dance  and  a hand 
In  the  cause  of  his  country  to  join. 

Then,  Oh ! the  marriage,  &c. 

* Vulgo  Owen  ; but  that  is,  properly,  a name  among  the  Cymrj 
'Welsh). — Author’s  Note. 


A PLEA  FOR  LOVE. 


8 4 


IV. 

We  meet  in  the  market  and  fair — 

We  meet  in  the  morning  and  night — 

He  sits  on  the  half  of  my  chair, 

And  my  people  are  wild  with  delight. 

Yet  I long  through  the  winter  to  skim, 
Though  Eoghan  longs  more  I can  see, 
When  I will  be  married  to  him, 

And  he  will  be  married  to  me. 

Then,  Oh ! the  marriage,  the  marriage, 
With  love  and  mo  bhuachaill  for  me, 
The  ladies  that  ride  in  a carriage, 
Might  envy  my  marriage  to  me. 


A 


A PLEA  FOR  LOVE. 

i. 

The  summer  brook  flows  in  the  bed, 

The  winter  torrent  tore  asunder ; 

The  sky-lark’s  gentle  wings  are  spread, 

Where  walk  the  lightning  and  the  thunder : 
And  thus  you’ll  find  the  sternest  soul 
The  greatest  tenderness  concealing, 

And  minds,  that  seem  to  mock  control, 

Are  ordered  by  some  fairy  feeling. 


82 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


II. 

Then,  maiden  ! start  not  from  the  hand 
That’s  hardened  by  the  swaying  sabre— 

The  pulse  beneath  may  be  as  bland 
As  evening  after  day  of  labour  : 

And,  maiden  ! start  not  from  the  brow 

That  thought  has  knit,  and  passion  darkened — 
In  twilight  hours,  ’neath  forest  bough, 

The  tenderest  tales  are  often  hearkened. 


THE  BISHOP’S  DAUGHTER. 
Air — The  Maid  of  Rillala. 

i. 

Kill  ala’s  halls  are  proud  and  fair ; 
Tyrawley’s  hills  are  cold  and  bare ; 

Yet,  in  the  palace,  you  were  sad, 

While,  here,  your  heart  is  safe  and  glad. 


ii. 

No  satin  couch,  no  maiden  train, 

Are  here  to  soothe  each  passing  pain ; 
Yet  lay  your  head  my  breast  upon, — 
’Twill  turn  to  down  for  you,  sweet  one ! 


THE  BOATMAN  OF  KINSALE, 


83 


in. 

Your  father’s  halls  are  rich  and  fair, 

And  plain  the  home  you’ve  come  to  share ; 
But  happy  love’s  a fairy  king, 

And  sheds  a grace  on  every  thing. 


THE  BOATMAN  OF  KINSALE. 
Air — An  Cota  Caol, 

i. 

His  kiss  is  sweet,  his  word  is  kind, 

His  love  is  rich  to  me ; 

I could  not  in  a palace  find 
A truer  heart  than  he. 

The  eagle  shelters  not  his  nest 
From  hurricane  and  hail, 

More  bravely  than  he  guards  my  breast— 
The  Boatman  of  Kinsale. 


n. 

The  wind  that  round  the  Fastnet  sweeps 
Is  not  a whit  more  pure — 

The  goat  that  down  Cnoc  Sheehy  leaps 
Has  not  a foot  more  sure. 

No  firmer  hand  nor  freer  eye 
E’er  faced  an  Autumn  gale — 


84 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


De  Courcy’s  heart  is  not  so  high — 

The  Boatman  of  Kinsale. 

m. 

The  brawling  squires  may  heed  him  not, 
The  dainty  stranger  sneer — 

But  who  will  dare  to  hurt  our  cot, 

When  Myles  O’Hea  is  here ! 

The  scarlet  soldiers  pass  along — 

They’d  like,  but  fear  to  rail — 

His  blood  is  hot,  his  blow  is  strong — 
The  Boatman  of  Kinsale. 


IV. 

His  hooker’s  in  the  Scilly  van, 

When  seines  are  in  the  foam : 

But  money  never  made  the  man, 

Nor  wealth  a happy  home. 

So,  blest  with  love  and  liberty, 
While  he  can  trim  a sail, 

He’ll  trust  in  God,  and  cling  to  me— 
The  Boatman  of  Kinsale. 


DARLING  NELL. 

i. 

Why  should  not  I take  her  unto  my  heart ! 
She  has  not  a morsel  of  guile  or  art ; 

Why  should  not  I make  her  my  happy  wife, 
And  love  her  and  cherish  her  all  my  life  ? 


LOVE  CHAUNT. 


85 


I’ve  met  with  a few  of  as  shining  eyes, 

I’ve  met  with  a hundred  of  wilder  sighs, 

I think  I met  some  whom  I loved  as  well — 

But  none  who  loved  me  like  my  Darling  Nell. 

ii. 

She’s  ready  to  cry  when  I seem  unkind, 

But  she  smothers  her  grief  within  her  mind ; 

And  when  my  spirit  is  soft  and  fond, 

She  sparkles  the  brightest  of  stars  beyond. 

Oh ! ’twould  teach  the  thrushes  to  hear  her  sing, 
And  her  sorrow  the  heart  of  a rock  would  wring  j 
There  never  was  saint  but  would  leave  his  cell, 

If  he  thought  he  could  marry  my  Darling  Nell ! 


LOVE  CHAUNT 

i. 

I think  I’ve  looked  on  eyes  that  shone 
With  equal  splendour, 

And  some,  but  they  are  dimmed  and  gone, 

As  wildly  tender. 

I never  looked  on  eyes  that  shed 

Such  home-light  mingled  with  such  beauty,— 
That  ’mid  all  lights  and  shadows  said, 

“ I love  and  trust  and  will  be  true  to  ye.” 

8 


86 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


IL 

Eve  seen  some  lips  almost  as  red, 

A form  as  stately ; 

And  some  such  beauty  turned  my  head 
Not  very  lately. 

But  not  till  now  I’ve  seen  a girl 

With  form  so  proud,  lips  so  delicious, 
With  hair  like  night,  and  teeth  of  pearl,— 
Who  was  not  haughty  and  capricious. 

hi. 

Oh,  fairer  than  the  dawn  of  day 
On  Erne’s  islands ! 

Oh,  purer  than  the  thorn  spray 
In  Bantry’s  highlands ! 

In  sleep  such  visions  crossed  my  view, 
And  when  I woke  the  phantom  faded ; 
But  now  I find  the  fancy  true, 

And  fairer  than  the  vision  made  it. 


A CHRISTMAS  SCENE  ; 

OR,  LOVE  IN  THE  COUNTRY. 


I. 

The  hill  blast  comes  howling  through  leaf-rifted  trees. 
That  late  were  as  harp-strings  to  each  gentle  breeze  ; 
The  strangers  and  cousins  and  every  one  flown, 

While  we  sit  happy-hearted — together — alone. 


CHRISTMAS  SCENE. 


87 


H. 

Some  are  off  to  the  mountain,  and  some  to  the  fair, 
The  snow  is  on  their  cheek,  on  mine  your  black  hair  ; 
Papa  with  his  farming  is  busy  to-day, 

And  mamma’s  too  good-natured  to  ramble  this  way. 

hi. 

The  girls  are  gone — are  they  not  ? — into  town, 

To  fetch  bows  and  bonnets,  perchance  a beau , down 
Ah  ! tell  them,  dear  Kate,  ’tis  not  fair  to  coquette — 
Though  you,  you  bold  lassie,  are  fond  of  it  yet ! 


IV. 

You’re  not — do  you  say  1 — just  remember  last  night, 
You  gave  Harry  a rose,  and  you  dubbed  him  youi 
knight ; 

Poor  lad ! if  he  loved  you — but  no,  darling  ! no, 
You’re  too  thoughtful  and  good  to  fret  any  one  so. 


The  painters  are  raving  of  light  and  of  shade, 

And  Harry,  the  poet,  of  lake,  hill,  and  glade ; 

While  the  light  of  your  eye,  and  your  soft  wavy  form 
Suit  a proser  like  me,  by  the  hearth  bright  and  warm. 

VI. 

The  snow  on  those  hills  is  uncommonly  grand, 

But,  you  know,  Kate,  it’s  not  half  so  white  as  your  hand 
And  say  what  you  will  of  the  grey  Christmas  sky, 
Still  I slightly  prefer  my  dark  girl’s  grey  eye. 


88 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


VII. 

Be  quiet,  and  sing  me  “ The  Bonny  Cuckoo,” 

For  it  bids  us  the  summer  and  winter  love  through,— 
And  then  I’ll  read  out  an  old  ballad  that  shews 
How  Tyranny  perished,  and  Liberty  rose. 

VIII. 

My  Kate  ! I’m  so  happy,  your  voice  whispers  soft, 
And  your  cheek  flushes  wilder  from  kissing  so  oft, 
For  town  or  for  country,  for  mountains  or  farms, 
What  care  I ? — My  darling’s  entwined  in  my  arms. 


THE  INVOCATION. 

Air — Fanny  Power . 

i. 

Bright  fairies  by  GlengarifFs  bay, 

Soft  woods  that  o’er  Killarney  sway, 

Bold  echoes  born  in  Ceim-an-eich, 

Your  kinsman’s  greeting  hear! 
He  asks  you,  by  old  friendship’s  name, 

By  all  the  rights  that  minstrels  claim, 

For  Erin’s  joy  and  Desmond’s  fame, 

Be  kind  to  Fanny  dear ! 


THE  INVOCATION. 


89 


ii. 

Her  eyes  are  darker  than  Dunloe, 

Her  soul  is  whiter  than  the  snow, 

Her  tresses  like  arbutus  flow, 

Her  step  like  frighted  deer : 
Then,  still  thy  waves,  capricious  lake ! 

And  ceaseless,  soft  winds,  round  her  wake, 
Yet  never  bring  a cloud  to  break 

The  smile  of  Fanny  dear ! 

hi. 

Oh ! let  her  see  the  trance-bound  men, 

And  kiss  the  red  deer  in  his  den, 

And  spy  from  out  a hazel  glen 
O’Donoghue  appear 
Or,  should  she  roam  by  wild  Dunbwy, 

Oh ! send  the  maiden  to  her  knee, 

I sung  whilome,* — hut  then,  ah  ! me, 

I knew  not  Fanny  dear  l 

IV. 

Old  Mangerton  ! thine  eagles  plume^ 
Dear  Innisfallen!  brighter  bloom — 

And  Mucruss  ! whisper  thro’  the  gloom 
Quaint  legends  to  her  ear ; 

Till  strong  as  ash-tree  in  its  pride, 

And  gay  as  sunoeam  on  the  tide, 

We  welcome  back  to  Liffey’s  side 

Our  brightest,  Fanny  dear. 

* Vide  ante , page  67. 

8* 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


LOVE  AND  WAR. 


How  soft  is  the  moon  on  Glengariff! 

The  rocks  seem  to  melt  with  the  light ; 

Oh ! would  I were  there  with  dear  Fanny, 
To  tell  her  that  love  is  as  bright ; 

And  nobly  the  sun  of  July 
O’er  the  waters  of  Adragoole  shines — 
Oh ! would  that  I saw  the  green  banner 
Blaze  there  over  conquering  lines. 

ir. 

Oh  ! love  is  more  fair  than  the  moonlight, 
And  glory  more  grand  than  the  sun ; 
And  there  is  no  rest  for  a brave  heart, 

Till  its  bride  and  its  laurels  are  won ; 
But  next  to  the  burst  of  our  banner, 

And  the  smile  of  dear  Fanny,  I crave 
The  moon  on  the  rocks  of  Glengariff-— 
The  sun  upon  Adragoole’s  wave. 


MY  LAND. 


91 


MY  LAND. 


She  is  a rich  and  rare  land ; 

Oh ! she’s  a fresh  and  fair  land : 
She  is  a dear  and  rare  land — 

This  native  land  of  mine. 

11. 

N<5  men  than  her’s  are  braver — 
Her  women’s  hearts  ne’er  waver ; 
I’d  freely  die  to  save  her, 

And  think  my  lot  divine. 

hi. 

She’s  not  a dull  or  cold  land  ; 

No  ! she’s  a warm  and  bold  land  j 
Oh  ! she’s  a true  and  old  land— 
This  native  land  of  mine. 

IV. 

Could  beauty  ever  guard  her, 

And  virtue  still  reward  her, 

No  foe  would  cross  her  border— 
No  friend  within  it  pine ! 


v. 

Oh,  she’s  a fresh  and  fair  land ; 
Oh,  she’s  a true  and  rare  land ! 
Yes,  she’s  a rare  and  fair  land — 
This  native  land  of  mine. 


9* 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


THE  RIGHT  ROAD. 


i. 

Let  the  feeble-hearted  pine, 
Let  the  sickly  spirit  whine, 
But  work  and  win  be  thine, 
While  you’ve  life. 
God  smiles  upon  the  bold — 
So,  when  your  flag’s  unrolled, 
Bear  it  bravely  till  you’re  cold 
In  the  strife. 


n. 

If  to  rank  or  fame  you  soar, 

Out  your  spirit  frankly  pour — 

Men  will  serve  you  and  adore, 

Like  a king. 

Woo  your  girl  with  honest  pride, 

Till  you’ve  won  her  for  your  bride~- 
Then  to  her,  through  time  and  tide, 
Ever  cling, 
m. 

Never  under  wrongs  despair ; 

Labour  long,  and  everywhere, 

Link  your  countrymen,  prepare, 

And  strike  home. 

Thus  have  great  men  ever  wrought, 
Thus  must  greatness  still  be  sought, 
Thus  laboured,  loved,  and  fought 
Greece  and  Rome. 


PART  III. 


Mate  anti  $mp 

ILLUSTRATIVE  OF 

IRISH  HISTORY. 


“ This  country  of  ours  is  no  sand-bank,  thrown  up  by  some  recent 
caprice  of  earth.  It  is  an  ancient  land,  honoured  in  the  archives 
of  civilization,  traceable  into  antiquity  by  its  piety,  its  valour,  and  its 
sufferings.  Every  great  European  race  has  sent  its  stream  to  the 
river  of  Irish  mind.  Long  wars,  vast  organisations,  subtle  codes, 
beacon  crimes,  leading  virtues,  and  self-mighty  men  were  here.  If 
we  live  influenced  by  wind,  and  sun,  and  tree,  and  not  by  the  passions 
and  deeds  of  the  Past,  we  are  a thriftless  and  hopeless  people.” 

Davis’s  Essays 


A NATION  ONCE  AGAIN  *f 


i. 

When  boyhood’s  fire  was  in  my  blood, 

I read  of  ancient  freemen, 

* This  little  poem,  though  not  strictly  belonging  to  the  historical 
class,  is  placed  first ; as  striking  more  distinctly  than  any  other  in  th 
collection,  the  key-note  of  the  author’s  theme. — Ed. 

t Set  to  original  music  in  the  “ Spirit  of  the  Nation,”  4to.  p.  272 

—Ed. 


94 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


For  Greece  and  Romo  who  bravely  stood, 
Three  Hundred  men  and  Three  men.* 
And  then  I prayed  I yet  might  see 
Our  fetters  rent  in  twain, 

And  Ireland,  long  a province,  bo 
A Nation  once  again. 


ii. 

And,  from  that  time,  through  wildest  woe, 
That  hope  has  shone,  a far  light ; 

Nor  could  love’s  brightest  summer  glow 
Outshine  that  solemn  starlight : 

It  seemed  to  watch  above  my  head 
In  forum,  field,  and  fane  ; 

Its  angel  voice  sang  round  my  bed, 

“ A Nation  once  again.” 

iii. 

It  whispered,  too,  that  “ freedom’s  ark 
And  service  high  and  holy, 

Would  be  profaned  by  feelings  dark 
And  passions  vain  or  lowly  : 

For  freedom  comes  from  God’s  right  hand, 
And  needs  a godly  train ; 

And  righteous  men  must  make  our  land 
A Nation  once  again.” 


* The  Three  Hundred  Greeks  who  died  at  Thermopylae,  and  th« 
Threq  Romans  who  kept  the  Sublician  Bridge. — Author’s  Note 


LAMENT  FOR  THE  MILESIANS. 


9, 


IV. 

So,  as  I grew  from  boy  o man, 

I bent  me  to  that  bidding — 

My  spirit  of  each  selfish  plan 
And  cruel  passion  ridding ; 

For,  thus  I hoped  some  day  to  aid — 
Oh ! can  such  hope  be  vain  ? — 
When  my  dear  country  shall  be  made 
A Nation  once  again. 


LAMENT  FOR  THE  MILESIANS. 

Air — An  hruacli  na  carraige  baine.* 

i. 

Oh  ! proud  were  the  chieftains  of  green  Inis-Fail 
As  iruagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh  l f 
The  stars  of  our  sky,  and  the  salt  of  our  soil ; 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh  ! 


* Set  to  this  beautiful  Tipperary  air  in  the  “ Spirit  of  the  Na* 
tion,”  4to.  p.  236. 

f “ That  is  pity,  without  heir  in  their  company,”  i.  e.  What  a 
pity  that  there  is  no  heir  of  their  company.  See  the  poem  of  Giolla 
Iosa  Mor  Mac  Firbisigh  in  The  Genealogies,  Tribes , and  Cvstoms  of 
the  Ui  Fiachrach , or  O'  Dubhda's  C, untry , printed  for  the  Irish  Arch 
Soc.  p.  230,  line  2,  and  note  d.  Also,  O' Reilly' s Diet,  voce—farradh 
‘-Author’s  Note. 


96 


BALLADS  AND  SONGS. 


Their  hearts  were  as  soft  as  a child  in  the  lap, 

Vet  they  were  “ the  men  in  the  gap” — 

And  now  that  the  cold  clay  their  limbs  doth  enwrap;— 
As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh  ! 


n. 

’Gainst  England  long  battling,  at  length  they  went 
down; 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh ! 

But  they  left  their  deep  tracks  on  the  road  of  renown ; 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  'n-a  bh-farradh  ! 

We  are  heirs  of  their  fame,  if  we’re  not  of  their  race,-- 
And  deadly  and  deep  our  disgrace, 

If  we  live  o’er  their  sepulchres,  abject  and  base  ;— 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bhfarradh ! 


HI. 


Oh ! sweet  were  the  minstrels  of  kind  Inis-Fail ! 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bhfarradh  ! 

Whose  music,  nor  ages  nor  sorrow  can  spoil ; 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bhfarradh 
But  their  sad  stifled  tones  are  like  streams  flowing  hid, 
Their  caoine * and  their  pioprachr  f were  chid, 

And  their  language,  44  that  melts  into  music,”  forbid ; 
As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bhfarradh  ! 


Anglice,  keen 


t Angl.  pibroch. 


LAMENT  FOR  THE  MILESIANS. 


97 


IV. 

How  fair  were  the  maidens  of  fair  Inis-Fail  ! 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh ! 
As  fresh  and  as  free  as  the  sea-breeze  from  soil, 
As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh  ! 
Oh ! are  not  our  maidens  as  fair  and  as  pure  ? 
Can  our  music  no  longer  allure  ? 

And  can  we  but  sob,  as  such  wrongs  we  endure  ? 
As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bhfarradh  ! 


v. 

Their  famous,  their  holy,  their  dear  Inis-Fail  ! 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh  ! 
Shall  it  still  be  a prey  for  the  stranger  to  spoil  1 
As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh  ! 
Sure,  brave  men  would  labour  by  night  and  by  day 
To  banish  that  stranger  away  ; 

Or,  dying  for  Ireland,  the  future  would  say 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bhfarradh  / 


VI. 

Oh ! shame — for  unchanged  is  the  face  of  our  isle ; 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh  ! 

That  taught  them  to  battle,  to  sing,  and  to  smile ; 

As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bhfarradh  ! 

We  are  heirs  of  their  rivers,  their  sea,  and  their  land, — - 
Our  sky  and  our  mountains  as  grand — [hand ; 

We  are  heirs — oh!  we’re  not — of  their  heart  and  their 
As  truagh  gan  oidhir  ’ n-a  bh-farradh  ! 

9 


98 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


« 


THE  FATE  OF  KING  DATHI  * 

(a.d.  428.)  f 

I. 

Darkly  their  glibs  o’erhang, 

Sharp  is  their  wolf-dog’s  fang, 

Bronze  spear  and  falchion  clang — 

Brave  men  might  shun  them 
Heavy  the  spoil  they  bear — 

Jewels  and  gold  are  there — 

Hostage  and  maiden  fair — 

How  have  they  won  them  ? 

ii. 

From  the  soft  sons  of  Gaul, 

Roman,  and  Frank,  and  thrall, 

Borough,  and  hut,  and  hall, — 

These  have  been  torn. 

Over  Britannia  wide, 

Over  fair  Gaul  they  hied, 

Often  in  battle  tried, — 

Enemies  mourn ! 

in. 

Fiercely  their  harpers  sing,— 

Led  by  their  gallant  king, 

They  will  to  Eire  bring 
Beauty  and  treasure. 

* This  and  the  remaining-  poems  in  Part  I.  have  been  arranged 
nearly  as  possible  in  chronological  sequence. — Ed. 

+ Vide  Appendix 


’ i 


THE  FATE  OF  KING  DATHI.  99 

Britain  shall  bend  the  knee — 

Rich  shall  their  households  be — 

When  their  long  ships  the  sea 
Homeward  shall  measure. 

IV. 

Barrow  and  Rath  shall  rise, 

Towers,  too,  of  wondrous  size, 

Taillin  they’ll  solemnize, 

Feis-  Teamhrach  assemble. 

Samhain  and  Beal  shall  smile 
On  the  rich  holy  isle — 

Nay  ! in  a little  while 

QEtius  shall  tremble  !* 

< 

v. 

Up  on  the  glacier’s  snow, 

Down  on  the  vales  below, 

Monarch  and  clansmen  go — 

Bright  is  the  morning. 

Never  their  march  they  slack, 

Jura  is  at  their  back, 

When  falls  the  evening  black, 

Hideous,  and  warning. 


* The  consul  (Etius,  the  shield  of  Italy,  and  terror  of  u the  barba 
rian,”  was  a cotemporary  of  King  Dathi.  Feis-Teamhrach , the  Par 
liament  of  Tara.  Tailtin , games  held  at  Tailite,. county  Meath, 
Samhain  and  Pea?,  the  moon  and  sun  which  Ireland  woi  shipped  — 
Author  s Note 


100 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


VI. 

Eagles  scream  loud  on  high; 

Far  off  the  chamois  fly ; 

Hoarse  comes  the  torrent’s  cry. 
On  the  rocks  whitening. 
Strong  are  the  storm’s  wings ; 
Down  the  tall  pine  it  flings; 
Hail-stone  and  sleet  it  brings— 
Thunder  and  lightning. 

VII. 

Little  these  veterans  mind 
Thundering,  hail,  or  wind; 

Closer  their  ranks  they  bind— 
Matching  the  storm. 

While,  a spear-cast  or  more, 

On,  the  front  ranks  before, 
Dathi  the  sunburst  bore— 
Haughty  his  form. 

VIII. 

Forth  from  the  thunder-cloud  * 
Leaps  out  a foe  as  proud — 
Sudden  the  monarch  bowed — 
On  rush  the  vanguard; 
Wildly  the  king  they  raise — 
Struck  by  the  lightning’s  blaze— 
Ghastly  his  dying  gaze, 

Clutching  his  standard ! 


THE  FATE  OF  KING  DATHI. 


101 


IX. 

Mild  is  the  morning  beam, 

Gently  the  rivers  stream, 

Happy  the  valleys  seem ; 

But  the  lone  Islanders — 
Mark  how  they  guard  their  king ! 
Hark,  to  the  wail  they  sing ! 

Dark  is  their  counselling — 
Helvetia’s  highlanders. 

x. 

Gather,  like  ravens,  near — 

Shall  Dathi’s  soldiers  fear 
Soon  their  home-path  they  clear — 
Rapid  and  daring ; 

On  through  the  pass  and  plain, 
Until  the  shore  they  gain, 

And,  with  their  spoil,  again, 
Landed  in  Eirinn. 


XT. 

Little  does  Eire*  care 
For  gold  or  maiden  fair— 

“ Where  is  King  Dathi  ? — where, 
Where  is  my  bravest  V9 
On  the  rich  deck  he  lies, 

O’er  him  his  sunburst  flies— 
Solemn  the  obsequies, 

Eire  ! thou  gavest. 


* The  tree  anAent  and  modern  name  of  this  island. — Ed 

9* 


102 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


xn. 

See  ye  that  countless  train 
Crossing  Ros-Comain’s*  plain, 
Crying,  lik^  hurricane, 

Uile  liu  ai  ? — 

Broad  is  his  cam's  base — 

Nigh  the  “ King’s  burial-place, ”f 
Last  of  the  Pagan  race, 

Lieth  King  Dathi  ! 


ARGAN  MOR.J 
Air — Argan  M&r. 

i. 

The  Danes  rush  around,  around ; 

To  the  edge  of  the  fosse  they  bound ; 

Hark  I hark,  to  their  trumpets’  sound, 

Bidding  them  to  the  war  ! 

Hark ! hark,  to  their  cruel  cry, 

As  they  swear  our  hearts’  cores  to  dry, 

And  their  Raven  red  to  dye; 

Glutting  their  demon,  Thor. 

* Avgl.  Roscommon. 

t Hibernice , Roilig  na  Riogh,  vuJgo , Relignaree — “ A famous  bu- 
rial-place near  Cruachan,in  Connacht,  where  the  kings  were  usually 
interred,  before  the  establishment  of  the  Christian  religion  in  Ire- 
land.”— O'Brien's  Ir.  Diet. 

$ Vide  Appendix. 


ARGAN  MOR. 


103 


n. 

Leaping  the  Rath  upon, 

Here’s  the  fiery  Ceallachan — 

He  makes  the  Lochlonnach*  wan, 

Lifting  his  bra  *en  spear ! 

Ivor,  the  Dane,  is  struck  down, 

For  the  spear  broke  right  through  his  crown. 
Yet  worse  did  the  battle  frown — 

Anlaf  is  on  our  rere ! 

hi. 

See  ! see ! the  Rath’s  gates  are  broke 
And  in — in,  like  a cloud  of  smoke, 

Burst  on  the  dark  Danish  folk, 

Charging  us  everywhere— 

Oh,  never  was  closer  fight 
Than  in  Argan  Mor  that  night — 

How  little  do  men  want  light, 

Fighting  within  their  lair. 

IV. 

Then  girding  about  our  king, 

On  the  thick  of  the  foes  we  spring— 

Down — down  we  trample  and  fling, 

Gallantly  though  they  strive : 
And  never  our  falchions  stood, 

Till  we  were  all  wet  with  their  blood, 

And  none  of  the  pirate  brood 

Went  from  the  Rath  alive ! 


* Northmen 


104 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


THE  VICTOR’S  BURIAL. 


L 

Wrap  him  in  his>  banner,  the  best  shroud  of  the 
brave — 

Wrap  him  in  his  onchu ,*  and  take  him  to  his  grave — 

Lay  him  not  down  lowly,  like  bulwark  overthrown, 

But,  gallantly  upstanding,  as  if  risen  from  his  throne, 

With  his  craiseach\  in  his  hand,  and  his  sword  on  his 
thigh, 

With  his  war-belt  on  his  waist,  and  his  cathbharr\  on 
high- 

Put  his  jleasg $ upon  his  neck — his  green  flag  round 
him  fold, 

Like  ivy  round  a castle  wall — not  conquered,  but 
grown  old — 

’ Mhuire  as  truagh ! A mbuire  as  truagh ! A 
mhuire  as  truagh  ! ochon ! || 

Weep  for  him!  Oh!  weep  for  him,  but  remember, 
in  your  moan, 

That  he  died,  in  his  pride, — with  his  foes  about  him 
strown. 

ii. 

Oh  ! shrine  him  in  Beinn-Edair^T  with  his  face  toward? 
the  foe, 

As  an  emblem  that  not  death  our  defiance  can  lay 
low — 

* Flag.  t Spear.  * Helmet.  $ Collar. 

||  Anglice , Wirrasthrue,  ochone  ! IT  Howth. 


THE  TRUE  IRISH  KING.  10$ 

Let  him  look  across  the  waves  from  the  promontory’s 
breast, 

To  menace  back  The  East,  and  to  sentinel  The  West; 

Sooner  shall  these  channel  waves  the  iron  coast  cut 
through, 

Than  the  spirit  he  has  left,  yield,  Easterlings ! to  you — 

Let  his  coffin  be  the  hill,  let  the  eagles  of  the  sea 

Chorus  with  the  surges  round,  the  tuireamh  * of  the 
free ! 

’ Mhuire  as  truagh  ! A mhuire  as  iruagh ! A mhuire 
as  truagh  ! ochon  ! 

Weep  for  him ! Oh ! weep  for  him,  but  remember,  in 
your  moan, 

That  he  died,  in  his  pride, — with  his  foes  about  him 
strown ! 


THE  TRUE  IRISH  KING,  f 


i. 

The  Caesar  of  Rome  has  a wider  demesne, 

And  the  Ard  Righ  of  France  has  more  clans  in  his 
train ; 

The  sceptre  of  Spain  is  more  heavy  with  gems, 

And  our  crowns  cannot  vie  with  the  Greek  diadems ; 


* A masculine  lament. 


t Vide  Appendix. 


106 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


But  kindlier  far  before  heaven  and  man 

Are  the  Emerald  fields,  and  the  fiery-eyed  clan, 

The  sceptre,  and  state,  and  the  poets  who  sing, 
And  the  swords  that  encircle  A True  Irish  Kino  ! 


ii. 

For  he  must  have  come  from  a conquering  race — 

The  heir  of  their  valour,  their  glory,  their  grace  : 

His  frame  must  be  stately,  his  step  must  be  fleet, 

His  hand  must  be  trained  to  each  warrior  feat, 

His  face,  as  the  harvest  moon,  steadfast  and  clear, 

A head  to  enlighten,  a spirit  to  cheer; 

While  the  foremost  to  rush  where  the  battle-branda 
ring, 

And  the  last  to  retreat  is  A True  Irish  King  ! 

m. 

Yet,  not  for  his  courage,  his  strength,  or  his  name, 

Can  he  fronf  the  clansmen  their  fealty  claim. 

The  poorest,  and  highest,  choose  freely  to-day 
The  chief,  that  to-night  they’ll  as-  truly  obey ; 

For  loyalty  springs  from  a people’s  consent, 

And  the  knee  that  is  forced  had  been  better  unbent — 
The  Sacsanach  serfs  no  such  homage  can  bring 
As  the  Irishmen’s  choice  of  A True  Irish  King  ! 

IV. 

Come,  look  on  the  pomp  when  they  “ make  an  O’Neill  ; 
The  muster  of  dynasts — O’h- Again,*  O’ShiadhaiJ, 


Angl.  O’Hagan,  O’Shiel. 


THE  TRUE  IRISH  KING. 


107 


O’Cath&in,  O’h-Anluain,* **  O’Bhreislein,  and  all, 

From  gentle  Aird  Uladhf  to  rude  Dun  na  n-gall 
‘‘  St.  Patrick’s  comharba ,”  { with  bishops  thirteen, 

And  ollamhs  ||  and  breitheamhs , IT  and  minstrels,  are 
seen, 

Round  Tulach-Og  * * Rath,  like  the  bees  in  the  spring. 
All  swarming  to  honour  A True  Irish  King  ! 


v. 

Unsandalled  he  stands  on  the  foot-dinted  rock ; 

Like  a pillar-stone  fixed  against  every  shock. 

Round,  round  is  the  Rath  on  a far-seeing  hill ; 

Like  his  blemishless  honour,  and  vigilant  will. 

The  grey-beards  are  telling  how  chiefs  by  the  score 
Have  been  crowned  on  44  The  Rath  of  the  Kings”  here 
tofore, 

While,  crowded,  yet  ordered,  within  its  green  ring, 

Are  the  dynasts  and  priests  round  The  True  Irish 
King  ! 

VI. 

The  chronicler  read  him  the  laws  of  the  clan, 

And  pledged  him  to  bide  by  their  blessing  and  ban ; 
His  skian  and  his  sword  are  unbuckled  to  show 
That  they  only  were  meant  for  a foreigner  foe ; 

* Angl.  O’Cahan,  or  Kane,  O’Hanlon. 

t Angl.  The  Ards.  t Angl.  Donegal. 

$ Successor — comharba  Phadruig — the  Archbishop  of  ( Ard-macha ) 
Armagh. 

||  Doctors  or  learned  men.  U Judges  Angl.  Brehons 

**  In  the  county  KTir-Eoghain)  Tyrone,  between  Cookstown  and 
Stewartstown. 


103 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


A white  willow  wand  has  been  put  in  his  hand^ 

A typo  of  pure,  upright,  and  gentle  command — 

While  hierarchs  are  blessing,  the  slipper  they  fling, 
And  O’Cathain  proclaims  him  A True  Irish  King  ! 

VII. 

Thrice  looked  he  to  Heaven  with  thanks  and  with 
prayer — 

Thrice  looked  to  his  borders  with  sentinel  stare — 

To  the  waves  of  Loch  n-Eathach,  * the  heights  of 
Srathbhan ; f 

And  thrice  on  his  allies,  and  thrice  on  his  clan — 

One  clash  on  their  bucklers ! — one  more — they  are 
still — 

What  means  the  deep  pause  on  the  crest  of  the  hill  ? 
Why  gaze  they  above  him  ? — a war-eagle’s  wing  ! 

4'  ’ Tis  an  omen ! — Hurrah ! for  The  True  Irish  King  !” 

vm. 

God  aid  him  ! — God  save  him ! — and  smile  on  his  reign — 
The  terror  of  England — the  ally  of  Spain. 

May  his  sword  be  triumphant  o’er  Sacsanach  arts 
Be  his  throne  ever  girt  by  strong  hands,  and  true  hearts ! 
May  the  course  of  his  conquests  run  on  till  he  see 
The  flag  of  Plantagenet  sink  in  the  sea ! 

May  minstrels  for  ever  his  victories  sing, 

And  saints  make  the  bed  of  The  True  Irish  Kjng  ! 


Angl.  Lough  Neagh. 


f Angl.  Strabane. 


THE  GERALDINES. 


10: 


THE  GERALDINES. 

i. 

The  Geraldines  ! the  Geraldines ! — ’tis  fuil  a thousand 
years 

Since,  ’mid  the  Tuscan  vineyards,  bright  flashed  their 
battle-spears ; 

When  Capet  seized  the  crown  of  France,  their  iron 
shields  were  known, 

And  their  sabre-dint  struck  terror  on  the  flanks  of  the 
Garonne : 

Across  the  downs  of  Hastings  they  spurred  hard  by 
William’s  side, 

And  the  grey  sands  of  Palestine  with  Moslem  blood 
they  dyed - 

But  never  then,  nor  thence,  till  now,  have  falsehood  or 
disgrace 

Been  seen  to  soil  Fitzgerald’s  plume,  or  mantle  in  his 
face. 


ii. 

The  Geraldines  ! the  Geraldines  ! — ’tis  true,  in  Strong- 
bow’s  van 

By  lawless  force,  as  conquerors,  their  Irish  reign  be- 
gan; 

And,  oh ! through  many  a dark  campaign  they  proved 
their  prowess  stern, 

In  Leinster’s  plains,  and  Munster’s  vales,  on  king,  and 
chief,  and  kerne : 


10 


110 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


But  Doble  was  the  cheer  within  the  halls  so  rude.) 
won, 

And  generous  was  the  steel-gloved  hand  that  had  such 
slaughter  done ; 

How  gay  their  laugh,  how  proud  their  mien,  you'd  ask 
no  herald’s  sign — 

Among  a thousand  you  had  known  the  princely  Geral- 
dine. 


IIL 

These  Geraldines  ! these  Geraldines ! — not  long  our 
air  they  breathed ; 

Not  long  they  fed  on  venison,  in  Irish  water  seethed ; 

Not  often  had  their  children  been  by  Irish  mothers 
nursed, 

When  from  them  full  and  genial  hearts  an  Irish  feeling 
burst ! 

The  English  monarchs  strove  in  vain,  by  law,  and  force, 
and  bribe, 

To  win  from  Irish  thoughts  and  w*ays  this  “ more  than 
Irish”  tribe ; 

For  still  they  clung  to  fosterage,  to  breitheamh , cloak, 
and  bard : 

What  king  dare  say  to  Geraldine,  “your  Irish  wife 
discard”? 


IV. 

Ye  Geraldines ! ye  Geraldines ! — how  royally  ye  reigned 
O’er  Desmond  broad,  and  rich  Kildare,  and  English 
arts  disdained : 


THE  GERALDINES. 


Ill 


Your  sword  made  knights,  your  banner  waved,  free  was 
your  bugle  call 

By  Gleann’s*  green  slopes,  and  Daingean’sf  tide, 
from  Bearbha’sJ  banks  to  Eochaill.J 

What  gorgeous  shrines,  what  breitheamh\\  lore,  whaf 
minstrel  feasts  there  were 

In  and  around  Magh  Nuadhaid’sH  keep,  and  palace, 
filled  Adare ! 

But  not  for  rite  or  feast  ye  stayed,  when  friend  or  kin 
were  pressed ; 

And  foemen  fled,  when  44  Crom  Abu”**  bespoke  your 
lance  in  rest. 


v. 

Ye  Geraldines!  ye  Geraldines! — since  Silken  Thomas 
flung 

King  Henry’s  sword  on  council  board,  the  English 
thanes  among, 

Ye  never  ceased  to  battle  brave  against  the  English 
sway, 

Though  axe  and  brand  and  treachery  your  proudest  cut 
away. 

Of  Desmond’s  blood,  through  woman’s  veins  passed  on 
th’  exhausted  tide ; 

His  title  lives — a Sacsanach  churl  usurps  the  lion’s  hide ; 


* Angl.  Glyn.  f Angl.  Dingle.  t Angl.  Barrow. 

§ Angl.  Youghal  ||  Angl.  Brehon.  •f  Angl.  Maynooth. 

**  Formerly  the  war-cry  of  the  Geraldines  ; and  now  their  motto 


112 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


And,  though  Kildare  tower  haughtily,  there’s  ruin  at 
the  root, 

Else  why,  since  Edward  fell  to  earth,  had  such  a tree  no 
fruit? 


VI. 

True  Geraldines ! brave  Geraldines  ! — as  torrents  mould 
the  earth, 

You  channelled  deep  old  Ireland’s  heart  by  constancy 
and  worth : 

When  Ginckle  ’leaguered  Limerick,  the  Irish  soldiers 
gazed 

To  see  if  in  the  setting  sun  dead  Desmond’s  banner 
blazed ! 

And  still  it  is  the  peasants’  hope  upon  the  CuirreachV' 
mere, 

“They  live,  who’ll  see  ten  thousand  men  with  good 
Lord  Edward  here” — 

So  let  them  dream  till  brighter  days,  when,  not  by  Ed- 
ward’s shade, 

But  by  some  leader  true  as  he,  their  lines  shall  be 
arrayed ! 


VII. 

These  Geraldines ! these  Geraldines  ! — rain  wears  away 
the  rock, 

And  time  may  wear  away  the  tribe  that  stood  the 
battle’s  shock, 


Angl.  Curragh. 


THE  GERALDINES. 


113 


But,  ever,  sure,  while  one  is  left  of  all  that  honoured 
race, 

In  front  of  Ireland’s  chivalry  is  that  Fitzgerald  s place  : 

And,  though  the  last  were  dead  and  gone,  how  many  a 
field  and  town, 

From  Thomas  Court  to  Abbeyfeile,  would  cherish  their 
renown, 

And  men  would  say  of  valour’s  rise,  or  ancient  power’s 
decline, 

“ Twill  never  soar,  it  never  shone,  as  did  the  Geral- 
dine.” 


vm. 

The  Geraldines!  the  Geraldines! — and  are  there  any 
fears 

Within  the  sons  of  conquerors  for  full  a thousand  years  ? 

Can  treason  spring  from  out  a soil  bedewed  with 
martyrs’  blood? 

Or  has  that  grown  a purling  brook,  which  long  rushed 
down  a flood  ? — 

By  Desmond  swept  with  sword  and  fire, — by  clan  and 
keep  laid  low, — - 

By  Silken  Thomas  and  his  kin, — by  sainted  Edward ! 
No! 

The  forms  of  centuries  rise  up,  and  in  the  Irish  line 

Command  their  son  to  take  the  post  that  fits 
the  Geraldine  !* 


• The  concluding-  stanza,  now  first  published,  was  found  among 
the  author’s  papers. — Ed. 


10* 


1 14 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


O’BRIEN  OF  ARA.* 

Air — The  Piper  of  Blessington . 

i. 

Tall  are  the  towers  of  O’Ceinneidigh — f 
Broad  are  the  lands  of  MacCarrthaigh — { 
Desmond  feeds  five  hundred  men  a day ; 

Yet,  here’s  to  O’BriainJ  of  Ara! 

Up  from  the  Castle  of  Druim-aniar,|| 
Down  from  the  top  of  Camailte, 
Clansman  and  kinsman  are  coming  here 
To  give  him  the  cead  mile  failte. 


ii. 

See  you  the  mountains  look  huge  at  eve — 

So  is  our  chieftain  in  battle — 

Welcome  he  has  for  the  fugitive, — 

Uisce-bealha, IT  fighting,  and  cattle ! 

Up  from  the  Castle  of  Druim-aniar, 

Down  from  the  top  of  Camailte, 

Gossip  and  ally  are  coming  here 

To  give  him  the  cead  mile  failte. 

* Ara  is  a small  mountain  tract,  south  of  Loch  Deirgdheirc,  and 
north  of  the  Camailte  ( vulgo  the  Keeper)  hills.  It  was  the  seat  of  a 
branch  of  the  Thomond  princes,  called  the  O'Briens  of  Ara,  who 
hold  an  important  place  in  the  Munster  Annals. — Author’s  Note 
t Vulgo , O’Kennedy.  $ Vul.  M’Carthy.  § Vul.  O’Brien 
H Vul.  Drumineer.  IT  Vul.  Usquebaugh. 


CTBRIEN  OF  ARA. 


115 


hi. 


Horses  the  valleys  are  tramping  on, 

Sleek  from  the  Sacsanach  manger— 

Creachs  the  hills  are  encamping  on, 

Empty  the  b&ns  of  the  stranger ! 

Up  from  the  Castle  of  Druim-aniar, 

Down  from  the  top  of  Camailte, 
Ceithearn*  and  buannacht  are  coming  here 
To  give  him  the  cead  mile  failte. 

iv. 

He  has  black  silver  from  Cill-da-luaf — 

RianJ  and  CearbhallJ  are  neighbours — 

’N  Aonach||  submits  with  afuililiu — 

Butler  is  meat  for  our  sabres ! 

Up  from  the  Castle  of  Druim-aniar, 

Down  from  the  top  of  Camailte, 

Rian  and  Cearbhall  are  coming  here 
To  give  him  the  cead  mile  failte. 


’Tis  scarce  a week  since  through  OsairghelT 
Chased  he  the  Baron  of  Durmhagh — ** 
Forced  him  five  rivers  to  cross,  or  he 

Had  died  by  the  sword  of  Red  Murchadhlff 


v. 


* Vulgo,  Kerne. 
f)  Vul  Carroll. 
**  Vul  Durrow 


t Vul  Kill  aloe.  * Vul  Ryan. 

II  Vul  Nenagh.  IT  Vul.  Ossory 

ft  Vul  Murrough. 


116 


HISTORICAL  1 kLLADS. 


Up  from  the  Castle  of  Druim-aniar, 
Down  from  the  top  of  Camailte, 

All  the  Ui  Bhriain  are  coming  here 
To  give  him  the  cead  mile  failte. 

vi. 

Tall  are  the  towers  of  O’Ceinneidigh— 

Broad  are  the  lands  of  MacCarrthaigh — 
Desmond  feeds  five  hundred  men  a day ; 

Yet,  here’s  to  O’Briain  of  Ara! 

Up  from  the  Castle  of  Druim-aniar, 
Down  from  the  top  of  Camailte, 
Clansman  and  kinsman  are  coming  hero 
To  give  him  the  cead  mile  failte. 


EMMELINE  TALBOT. 

A BALLAD  OF  THE  PALE, 
rrhe  Scene  is  on  the  borders  of  Dublin  and  Wicklow  ] 


I. 

’Twas  a September  day — 
In  Glenismole,* 
Emmeline  Talbot  lay 
On  a green  knoll. 


* Hibernicc , — Gleann-an-smoil 


EMMELINE  TALBOT. 


117 


She  was  a lovely  thing, 
Fleet  as  a falcon’s  wing, 
Only  fifteen  that  spring — 
Soft  was  her  soul. 


ii. 

Danger  and  dreamless  sleep 
Much  did  she  scorn, 

And  from  her  father’s  keep 
Stole  out  that  morn. 
Towards  Glenismole  she  hies 
Sweetly  the  valley  lies, 
Winning  the  enterprise, — 

No  one  to  warn. 

hi. 

Till  by  the  noon,  at  length, 
High  in  the  vale, 

Emmeline  found  her  strength 
Suddenly  fail. 

Panting,  yet  pleasantly, 

By  Dodder-side  lay  she — 
Thrushes  sang  merrily, 

“ Hail,  sister,  hail !” 


IV. 

Hazel  and  copse  of  oak 
Made  a sweet  lawn, 

Out  from  the  thicket  broke 
Rabbit  and  fawn. 


118 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Green  were  the  eiscirs  round, 
Sweet  was  the  river’s  sound, 
Eastwards  flat  Cruach  frowned, 
South  lay  Sliabh  B&n. 


v. 

Looking  round  Barnakeel,* 

Like  a tall  Moor 
Full  of  impassioned  zeal, 

Peeped  brown  Kippure.f 
Dublin  in  feudal  pride, 

And  many  a hold  beside, 

Over  Finn-ghaillj;  preside — 
Sentinels  sure ! 

vr. 

Is  that  a roebuck’s  eye 
Glares  from  the  green  ?— 

Is  that  a thrush’s  cry 
Rings  in  the  screen  ? 
Mountaineers  round  her  sprung, 
Savage  their  speech  and  tongue, 
Fierce  was  their  chief  and  young— 
Poor  Emmeline ! 

VII. 

“ Hurrah,  ’tis  Talbot’s  child,” 
Shouted  the  kerne, 


Hib.  Bearna-chael.  f Hib  Keap-iubhair. 


Vu?g  Fingal, 


EMMELINE  TALBOT. 


U9 


“ Off  to  the  mountains  wild, 
Faire,*  O’Byrne !” 

Like  a bird  in  a net, 

Strove  the  sweet  maiden  yet, 
Praying  and  shrieking,  “ Let- 
Let  me  return.” 


VIII. 

After  a moment’s  doubt, 

Forward  he  sprung, 

With  his  sword  flashing  out — 
Wrath  on  his  tongue. 

“ Touch  not  a hair  of  her’s — 
Dies  he,  who  finger  stirs  !” 

Back  fell  his  foragers — 

To  him  she  clung. 

IX. 

Soothing  the  maiden’s  fears, 
Kneeling  was  he, 

When  burst  old  Talbot’s  spears 
Out  on  the  lea. 

March-men,  all  staunch  and  stout, 
Shouting  their  Belgard  shout — 

“ Down  with  the  Irish  rout, 

Frets  cTaccomj)lir”f 


Vulg.  Farrah. 


f The  motto  and  cry  of  the  Talbota 


/ 


120  HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


X. 

Taken  thus  unawares, 

Some  fled  amain — 

Fighting  like  forest  bears, 
Others  were  slain. 

To  the  chief  clung  the  maid — 
How  could  he  use  his  blade  ?— 
That  night,  upon  him  weighed 
Fetter  and  chain. 


XI. 

Oh ! but  that  night  was  long, 
Lying  forlorn, 

Since,  ’mid  the  wassail  song, 
These  words  were  borne— 

“ Nathless  your  tears  and  cries, 
Sure  as  the  sun  shall  rise, 
Connor  O’Byrne*  dies, 

Talbot  has  sworn.” 

XII. 

Brightly  on  Tamhlachtf  hill 
Flashes  the  sun ; 

Strained  at  his  window-sill. 
How  his  eyes  run 
From  lonely  Sagart  slade 
Down  to  Tigh-bradan  glade. 
Landmarks  of  border  raid, 
Many  a one. 


• Hib  Conchobhar  O’Broin. 


Yulg.  Taflagni 


EMMELINE  TALBOT. 


121 


XIII. 

Too  well  the  captive  knows 
Belgard’s  main  wall 
Will,  to  his  naked  blows, 

Shiver  and  fall, 

Ere  in  his  mountain  hold 
He  shall  again  behold 
Those  whose  proud  hearts  are  cold. 
Weeping  his  thrall. 

XIV. 

* Oh ! for  a mountain  side, 

Bucklers  and  brands! 

Freely  I could  have  died 
Heading  my  bands, 

But  on  a felon  tree  ” — 

Bearing  a fetter  key, 

By  him  all  silently 
Emmeline  stands.  * * 


xv. 

Late  rose  the  castellan, 
He  had  drunk  deep, — 
Warder  and  serving-man 
Still  were  asleep, — 
Wide  is  the  castle-gate, 
Open  the  captive’s  grate. 
Fetters  disconsolate 
Flung  in  a heap. 

11 


* * 


122 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


XVI. 

’Tis  an  October  day, 

Close  by  Loch  Dan 
Many  a creach  lay, 

Many  a man. 

’Mongst  them,  in  gallant  mien, 
Connor  O’Byrne’s  seen 
Wedded  to  Emmeline, 

Girt  by  his  clan ! 


O’SULLIVAN’S  RETURN.* 

Air — An  cruisgin  Ian. f 

i. 

O'Suillebhain  has  come 
Within  sight  of  his  home, 

He  had  left  it  long  years  ago ; 

The  tears  are  in  his  eyes, 

And  he  prays  the  wind  to  rise, 

As  he  looks  towards  his  castle,  from  the  prow,  from  tha 
prow ; 

As  he  looks  towards  his  castle,  from  the  prow. 


Vide  Appendix. 


t Slow  time 


o’sullivan’s  return. 


123 


ii. 

For  the  day  had  been  calm, 

And  slow  the  good  ship  swam, 

And  the  evening  gun  had  been  fired ; 

He  knew  the  hearts  beat  wild 
Of  mother,  wife,  and  child, 

And  of  clans,  who  to  see  him  long  desired,  long  desired, 
And  of  clans,  who  to  see  him  long  desired. 

hi. 

Of  the  tender  ones  the  clasp, 

Of  the  gallant  ones  the  grasp, 

He  thinks,  until  his  tears  fall  warm ; 

And  full  seems  his  wide  hall, 

With  friends  from  wall  to  wall, 

Where  their  welcome  shakes  the  banners,  like  a storm, 
like  a storm ; 

Where  their  welcome  shakes  the  banners  like  a storm 


IV. 

Then  he  sees  another  scene — 

Norman  churls  on  the  green — 

“ O’ Suilleobhain  abu ” is  the  cry; 

For  filled  is  his  ship’s  hold 
With  arms  and  Spanish  gold, 

And  he  sees  the  snake-twined  spear  wave  on  high, 
wave  on  high ; 

And  he  sees  the  snake-twined  spear  wave  on  high.* 

* The  standard  bearings  of  O’Sullivan.  Sec  O’Donovan’s  edition 
of  the  Banquet  of  Dun  na  l-Gedh,  and  the  Battle  of  Magh  Rath,  to 


124 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


V. 

“ Finghm’s  race  shall  be  freed 
From  the  Norman’s  cruel  breed — 

My  sires  freed  Bear’  once  before, 

When  the  Barn  wells  were  strewn 
On  the  fields,  like  hay  in  June, 

And  but  one  of  them  escaped  from  our  shore,  from  oui 
shore ; 

And  but  one  of  them  escaped  from  our  shore.”* 


VI. 

And,  warming  in  his  dream, 

He  floats  on  victory’s  stream, 

Till  Desmond — till  all  Erin  is  free  ! 
Then,  how  calmly  he’ll  go  down, 

Full  of  years  and  of  renown, 

To  his  grave  near  that  castle  by  the  sea,  by  the  sea ; 
To  his  grave  near  that  castle  by  the  sea! 


the  Archaeological  Society,  App.  p.  349. — “ Bearings  of  O’Sullivan  at 
the  Battle  of  Caisglinn.” 

“ I see,  mightily  advancing  on  the  plain, 

The  banner  of  the  race  of  noble  Finghin  ; 

His  spear  with  a venomous  adder  ( entwined ), 

His  host  all  fiery  champions.” 

Finghin  was  one  of  their  most  famous  progenitors. — Author’s  Note. 

* The  Barnwells  were  Normans,  who  seized  part  of  Beara  in  the 
reign  of  Henry  II.  ; but  the  O’Sullivans  came  down  on  them,  and  cut 
off  all  save  one — a young  man  who  settled  at  Drimnagh  Castle,  Co 
Dublin,  and  was  ancestor  to  the  Barnwells,  Lords  of  Trimlestone  and 
Kingsland.— Author’s  Note. 


o’sullivan’s  return. 


125 


VII. 

But  the  wind  heard  his  word, 

As  though  he  were  its  lord, 

And  the  ship  is  dashed  up  the  Bay. 

Alas  ! for  that  proud  barque, 

The  night  has  fallen  dark, 

Tis  too  late  to  Eadarghabhal*  to  bear  away,  to  bear 
away ; 

Tis  too  late  to  Eadarghabhal  to  bear  away. 

VIII. 

Black  and  rough  was  the  rock, 

And  terrible  the  shock, 

As  the  good  ship  crashed  asunder  ; 

And  bitter  was  the  cry, 

And  the  sea  ran  mountains  high, 

And  the  wind  was  as  loud  as  the  thunder,  the  thunder  , 
And  the  wind  was  as  loud  as  the  thunder. 


IX. 

There’s  woe  in  Beara, 

There’s  woe  in  Gleann-garbh,f 
And  from  BeanntraigheJ  unto  D un-kiarain 
All  Desmond  hears  their  grief, 

And  wails  above  their  chief — 

* Is  it  thus,  is  it  thus,  that  you  return,  you  return— 
Is  it  thus,  is  it  thus,  that  you  return  ?” 


* Vul  Adragoole.  f Vul.  GlengarrifF.  Z Vul.  Bantry 
^ Vul.  Dunkerron. 

11* 


126 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


THE  FATE  OF  THE  O’SULLIVANS.* 


i. 

“ A baby  in  the  mountain  gap — 

Oh  ! wherefore  bring  it  hither? 
Restore  it  to  it’s  mother’s  lap, 

Or  else  ’twill  surely  wither. 

A baby  near  the  eagle’s  nest ! 

How  should  their  talons  spare  it  ? 
Oh ! take  it  to  some  woman’s  breast, 
And  she  will  kindly  care  it.” 


ii. 

“ Fear  not  for  it,”  M’Swiney  said, 

And  stroked  his  cul-jionn * slowly, 
And  proudly  raised  his  matted  head, 
Yet  spoke  me  soft  and  lowly — 


* After  the  taking  of  Dunbwy  and  the  ruin  of  the  O’Sullivan  s 
country,  the  chief  marched  right  through  Muskerry  and  Ormond, 
hotly  pursued.  He  crossed  the  Shannon  in  curachs  made  of  his 
horses’  skins.  He  then  defeated  the  English  forces  and  slew  their 
commander,  Manby,  and  finally  fought  his  way  into  O’Ruarc’s 
country.  During  his  absence  his  lady  ( Beantighearna ) and  infant 
were  supported  in  the  mountains  by  one  of  his  clansmen,  M‘Swiney 
who,  tradition  says,  used  to  rob  the  eagles’  nests  of  their  prey  for  hi 
charge.  O’Sullivan  was  excepted  from  James  the  First’s  amnesty  on 
account  of  his  persevering  resistance.  He  went  to  Spain,  and  was 
appointed  governor  of  Corunna  and  Viscount  Berehaven.  His  march 
from  GlengarrifF  to  Leitrim  is,  perhaps,  the  most  romantic  and  gal« 
tant  achievement  of  his  age. — Author’s  Note. 
t Vulgo,  coulin 


FATE  OF  THE  O’SULLIVANS. 


127 


* Fear  not' for  it,  for,  many  a day, 

I climb  the  eagle’s  eyrie, 

And  bear  the  eaglet’s  food  away 
To  feed  our  little  fairy. 

hi. 

* Fear  not  for  it,  no  Bantry  bird 

Would  harm  our  chieftain’s  baby” — 

He  stopped,  and  something  in  him  stirred— 
’Twas  for  his  chieftain,  may  be. 

And  then  he  brushed  his  softened  eyes, 

And  raised  his  bonnet  duly, 

And  muttered  “ the  Beanlighearna  lies 
Asleep  in  yonder  buaili” * 

IV. 

He  pointed  ’twixt  the  cliff  and  lake, 

And  there  a hut  of  heather, 

Half  hidden  in  the  craggy  brake, 

Gave  shelter  from  the  weather ; 

The  little  tanist  shrieked  with  joy, 

Adown  the  gully  staring — 

The  clansman  swelled  to  see  the  boy, 
O’Sullivan-like,  daring. 

v. 

Oh  ! what  a glorious  sight  was  there, 

As  from  the  summit  gazing, 

O’er  winding  creek  and  islet  fair, 

And  mountain  waste  amazing; 


Vulgo,  boulle. 


128 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


The  Caha  and  Dunkerron  hills 
Cast  half  the  gulfs  in  shadow, 

While  shone  the  sun  on  Culiagh’s  rills. 
And  Whiddy’s  emerald  meadow — 


VI. 

The  sea  a sheet  of  crimson  spread, 

From  Foze  to  Dursey  islands ; 

While  flashed  the  peaks  from  Mizenhead 
To  Musk’ry’s  distant  highlands — 

I saw  no  kine,  I saw  no  sheep, 

I saw  nor  house  nor  furrow ; 

But  round  the  tarns  the  red  deer  leap, 

Oak  and  arbutus  thorough. 

VII. 

Oh ! what  a glorious  sight  was  there, 

That  paradise  o’ergazing — 

When,  sudden,  hurst  a smoky  glare, 

Above  Glengarrifl*  blazing — 

The  clansman  sprung  upon  his  feet — • 

Well  might  the  infant  wonder — 

His  hands  were  clenched,  his  brow  was  knit, 
His  hard  lips  just  asunder. 

• VIH. 

Like  shattered  rock  from  out  the  ground, 

He  stood  there  stiff  and  silent — 

Our  breathing  hardly  made  a sound, 

As  o’er  the  baby  I leant ; 


FATE  OF  THE  O’SULLIVANS.  ]2& 

His  figure  then  went  to  and  fro, 

As  the  tall  blaze  would  flicker — 

And  as  exhausted  it  sunk  low, 

His  breath  came  loud  and  thicker. 


IX. 

Then  slowly  turned  he  round  his  head, 
And  slowly  turned  his  figure ; 

His  eye  was  fixed  as  Spanish  lead, 

His  limbs  were  full  of  rigour — 
Then  suddenly  he  grasped  the  child, 
And  raised  it  to  his  shoulder, 

Then  pointing  where,  across  the  wild, 
The  fire  was  seen  to  smoulder : — 


x. 

Look,  baby ! — look,  there  is  the  sign, 

Your  father  is  returning, 

The  4 generous  hand’  of  Finghin’s  line 
Has  set  that  beacon  burning. 

* The  generous  hand’ — Oh  ! Lord  of  hosts— 
Oh,  Virgin,  ever  holy  ! 

There’s  nought  to  give  on  Bantry’s  coasts— 
Dunbwy  is  lying  lowly. 


XI. 

The  halls,  where  mirth  and  minstrelsy 
Than  Beara’s  wind  rose  louder, 

Are  flung  in  masses  lonelily, 

And  black  with  English  powder— 


130 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


The  sheep  that  o’er  our  mountains  ran, 
The  kine  that  filled  our  valleys, 

Are  gone,  and  not  a single  clan 
O’Sullivan  now  rallies. 

XTI. 

“ He,  long  the  Prince  of  hill  and  bay! 

The  ally  of  the  Spaniard ! 

Has  scarce  a single  ath  to-day, 

Nor  seamen  left  to  man  yard” — 
M’Swiney  ceased,  then  fiercely  strode 
Bearing  along  the  baby, 

Until  we  reached  the  rude  abode 
Of  Bantry’s  lovely  lady. 

XIII. 

We  found  her  in  the  savage  shed — 

A mild  night  in  mid  winter — 

The  mountain  heath  her  only  bed, 

Her  dais  the  rocky  splinter ! 

The  sad  Beantighearr?  had  seen  the  fire—* 
’Twas  plain  she  had  been  praying— 

She  seized  her  son,  as  we  came  nigher, 
And  welcomed  me,  thus  saying — 


XiV. 

“ Our  gossip’s  friend  I gladly  greet, 
Though  scant’ly  I can  cheer  him 
Then  bids  the  clansman  fly  to  meet 
And  tell  her  lord  she’s  near  him. 


* 


■f 


/ 


fAlE  OF  THE  O’SULLIVANS.  131 

M’Swiney  kissed  his  foster  son, 

And  shouting  out  his  faire — 

“ O’  Suillebhain  abu ”■ — is  gone 

Like  Marchman’s  deadly  arrow ! 

xv. 

An  hour  went  by,  when,  from  the  shore 
The  chieftain’s  horn  winding, 

Awoke  the  echoes’  hearty  roar — 

Their  fealty  reminding : 

A moment,  and  he  faintly  gasps — 

“ These — these,  thank  heav’n,  are  left  me”-» 
And  smiles  as  wife  and  child  he  clasps — 

“ They  have  not  quite  bereft  me.” 

XVI. 

I never  saw  a mien  so  grand, 

A brow  and  eye  so  fearless — 

There  was  not  in  his  veteran  band 
A single  eyelid  tearless. 

His  tale  is  short — O’Ruarc’s  strength 
Could  not  postpone  his  ruin, 

And  Leitrim’s  towers  he  left  at  length, 

To  spare  his  friend’s  undoing. 

XVII. 

To  Spain — to  Spain,  he  now  will  sail, 

His  destiny  is  wroken — 

An  exile  from  dear  Inis-fail, — 

Nor  yet  his  will  is  broken ; 


132 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


For  still  ho  hints  some  enterprise, 
When  fleets  shall  bring  them  over, 
Dunbwy’s  proud  keep  again  shall  rise, 
And  mock  the  English  rover.  * * * 

XVIII. 

T saw  them  cross  Slieve  Miskisk  o’er, 
The  crones  around  them  weeping — 
I saw  them  pass  from  Culiagh’s  shore, 
Their  galleys’  strong  oars  sweeping, 
I saw  their  ship  unfurl  its  sail — 

I saw  their  scarfs  long  waven — 
They  saw  the  hills  in  distance  fail — 
They  never  saw  Berehaven ! 


THE  SACK  OF  BALTIMORE.  * 


i. 

The  summer  sun  is  falling  soft  on  Carbery’s  hundred 
isles — 

The  summer’s  sun  is  gleaming  still  through  Gabriel’s 
rough  defiles — 

* Baltimore  is  a small  seaport  in  the  barony  of  Carbery,  in  South 
Munster.  It  grew  up  round  a Castle  of  O’Driscoll’s,  and  was,  after 
his  ruin,  colonized  by  the  English.  On  the  20th  of  June,  1631,  the 
crew  of  two  Algerine  galleys  landed  in  the  dead  of  the  night,  sacked 
the  town,  and  bore  off  into  slavery  all  who  were  not  too  old,  or  too 
voung,  or  too  fierce  for  their  purpose.  The  pirates  were  steered  up 
the  intricate  channel  by  one  Hackett,  a Di'ngarvan  fisherman,  whom 


THE  SACK  OF  BALTIMORE. 


133 


Old  Inisherkin’s  crumbled  fane  looks  like  a moulting 
bird; 

And  in  a calm  and  sleepy  swell  the  ocean  tide  is  heard 

The  hookers  lie  upon  the  beach ; the  children  ceasd 
their  play ; 

The  gossips  leave  the  little  inn ; the  househo.  ds  kneel 
to  pray — 

And  full  of  love,  and  peace,  and  rest — its  daily  labour 
o’er — 

Jpon  that  cosy  creek  there  lay  the  town  of  Baltimore. 


ii. 

A deeper  rest,  a starry  trance,  has  come  with  midnight 
there ; 

No  sound,  except  that  throbbing  wave,  in  earth,  or  sea, 
or  air. 

The  massive  capes,  and  ruined  towers,  seem  conscious 
of  the  calm ; 

The  fibrous  sod  and  stunted  trees  are  breathing  heavy 
balm. 

So  still  the  night,  these  two  long  barques,  round  Dun- 
ashad  that  glide, 

Must  trust  their  oars — methinks  not  fewT — against  the 
ebbing  tide — 


they  had  taken  at  sea  for  the  purpose.  Two  years  after  he  was  con- 
victed and  executed  for  the  crime.  Baltimore  never  recovered  this. 
To  the  artist,  the  antiquary,  and  the  naturalist,  its  neighbourhood  is 
most  interesting. — See  “ The  Ancient  and  Present  State  of  the  Coun 
ty  and  City  of  Cork,”  by  Charles  Smith,  M.  D.,  vol.  1,  p.  270.  Second 
edition.  Dublin,  1774. — Author’s  Note. 

12 


134 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Oh  ! some  sweet  mission  of  true  love  must  urge  them 
to  the  shore — 

They  bring  some  lover  to  his  bride,  who  sighs  in  Balti- 
more ! 


m. 

All,  all  asleep  within  each  roof  along  that  rocky  street 

And  these  must  be  the  lover’s  friends,  with  gentle  glid 
ing  feet — 

A stifled  gasp ! a dreamy  noise ! “ the  roof  is  in  a 
flame ! ” 

From  out  their  beds,  and  to  their  doors,  rush  maid,  and 
sire,  and  dame — 

And  meet,  upon  the  threshold  stone,  the  gleaming 
sabre’s  fall, 

And  o’er  each  black  and  bearded  face  the  white  or  crim- 
son shawl — 

The  yell  of  “ Allah”  breaks  above  the  prayer,  and 
shriek,  and  roar — 

Oh,  blessed  God ! the  Algerine  is  lord  of  Baltimore ! 


iv. 

Then  flung  the  youth  his  naked  hand  against  the  shear- 
ing sword; 

Then  sprung  the  mother  on  the  brand  with  which  her 
son  was  gored ; 

Then  sunk  the  grandsire  on  the  floor,  his  grand-babes 
clutching  wild ; 

Then  fled  the  maiden  moaning  faint,  and  nestled  with 
the  child ; 


THE  SACK  OF  BALTIMORE. 


135 


But  see,  yon  pirate  strangled  lies,  and  crushed  with 
splashing  lieei, 

While  o’er  him  in  an  Irish  hand  there  sweeps  his  Syrian 
steel — 

Though  virtue  sink,  and  courage  fail,  and  misers  yield 
their  store, 

There’s  one  hearth  well  avenged  in  the  sack  of  Balti- 
more ! 


v. 

Mid-summer  morn,  in  woodland  nigh,  the  birds  began  to 
sing— 

They  see  not  now  the  milking  maids — deserted  is  the 
spring ! 

Mid-summer  day — this  gallant  rides  from  distant  Ban- 
don’s  town — 

These  hookers  crossed  from  stormy  Skull,  that  skiff  from 
Affadown ; 

They  only  found  the  smoking  walls,  with  neighbours 
blood  besprent, 

And  on  the  strewed  and  trampled  beach  awhile  the? 
wildly  went — 

Then  dashed  to  sea,  and  passed  Cape  Cleire,  and  saw  fiv6 
leagues  before 

The  pirate  galleys  vanishing  that  ravaged  Baltimore. 


VI. 

Oh ! some  must  tug  the  galley’s  oar,  and  some  must 
tend  the  steed — 

This  boy  wili  bear  a Scheik’s  chibouk,  and  that  a Bey’s 
jerreed. 


136 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Oh ! some  are  for  the  arsenals,  by  beauteous  Darda- 
nelles ; 

And  some  are  in  the  caravan  to  Mecca’s  sandy  dells. 

The  maid  that  Bandon  gallant  sought  is  chosen  for  the 
Dey — 

She’s  safe — she’s  dead — she  stabbed  him  in  the  midst  of 
his  Serai; 

And,  when  to  die  a death  of  fire,  that  noble  maid  they 
bore, 

She  only  smiled — O’Driscoll’s  child — she  thought  of 
Baltimore. 


VII. 

Tis  two  long  years  since  sunk  the  town  beneath  that 
bloody  band, 

And  all  around  its  trampled  hearths  a larger  concourse 
stand, 

Where,  high  upon  a gallows  tree,  a yelling  wretch  is 
seen — 

’Tis  Hackett  of  Dungarvan — he,  who  steered  the  Alge- 
rine ! 

He  fell  amid  a sullen  shout,  with  scarce  a passing 
prayer, 

For  he  had  slain  the  kith  and  kin  of  many  a hundred 
there — 

Some  muttered  of  MacMurchadh,  who  brought  the 
Norman  o’er — 

Some  cursed  him  with  Iscariot,  that  day  in  Baltimore. 


LAMENT  FOR  EOGHAN  RUADH. 


137 


LAMENT  FOR  THE  DE  \TH  OF  EOGHAN 
RUADH  O’NEILL .* 


[Time— 10th  Nov.,  1649.  Scene — Ormond’s  Camp,  County  Water 
ford.  Speakers — A Veteran  of  Eoghan  O’Neill’s  clan,  and  one  o, 
the  horsemen,  just  arrived  with  an  account  of  his  death. J 

I. 

“ Did  they  dare,  did  they  dare,  to  slay  Eoghan  Ruadh 
O’Neill  r 

“ Yes,  they  slew  with  poison  him,  they  feared  to  meet 
with  steel.” 

“ May  God  wither  up  their  hearts ! May  their  blood 
cease  to  flow ! 

May  they  walk  in  living  death,  who  poisoned  Eoghan 
Ruadh ! 


n. 

Though  it  break  my  heart  to  hear,  say  again  the  bitter 
words.” 

“ From  Derry,  against  Cromwell,  he  marched  to  measure 
swords ; 

But  the  weapon  of  the  Sacsanach  met  him  on  his  way, 

And  he  died  at  Cloch  Uachtar,f  upon  Saint  Leonard’s 
day.” 


* Commonly  called  Owen  Roe  O’Neill.  Vide  Appendix, 
t Vulgot  Cloigh  Oughter. 


12* 


138 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


III. 

“ Wail,  wail  ye  for  the  Mighty  One ! Wail,  wail  ye 
for  the  Dead ; 

Quench  the  hearth,  and  hold  the  breath — with  ashes 
strew  the  head. 

How  tenderly  we  loved  him  ! How  deeply  we  deplore ! 

Holy  Saviour!  but  to  think  we  shall  never  see  him 
more. 


IV. 

Sagest  in  the  council  was  he,  kindest  ip  the  Hall 

Sure  we  never  won  a battle — ’twas  Eoghan  won  them 
all. 

Had  he  lived — had  he  lived — our  dear  country  had  been 
free ; 

But  he’s  dead,  but  he’s  dead,  and  ’tis  slaves  we’ll 
ever  be. 


v. 

O’Farrell  and  Clanriekarde,  Preston  and  Red  Hugh, 
Audley  and  MacMahon — ye  are  valiant,  wise,  and  true  ; 
But — what,  what  are  ye  all  to  our  darling  who  is  gone  1 
The  Rudder  of  our  ship  was  he,  our  Castle’s  corner 
stone ! 


VI. 

W aif,  wail  him  through  the  Island ! Weep,  weep  for 
our  pride ! 

Would  that  on  the  battle-field  our  gallant  chief  had 
died ! 


LAMENT  FOR  EOGHAN  RUAPH. 


139 


Weep  the  Victor  of  Beann-bhorbh* — weep  him,  young 
man  and  old; 

Weep  for  him,  ye  women— your  Beautiful  lies  cold ! 

VII. 

We  thought  you  would  not  die — we  were  sure  you 
would  not  go, 

And  leave  us  in  our  utmost  need  to  Cromwell’s  cruel 
blow — 

Sheep  without  a shepherd,  when  the  snow  shuts  out 
the  sky — 

Oh ! why  did  you  leave  us,  Eoghan  ? Why  did  you  die  ? 

VIII. 

Soft  as  woman’s  was  your  voice,  O’Neill ! bright  was 
your  eye, 

Oh ! why  did  you  leave  us.  Eoghan?  why  did  you  die? 

Your  troubles  are  all  over,  you’re  at  rest  with  God  on 
high; 

But  we’re  slaves,  and  we’re  orphans,  Eoghan  ! — why  di 
you  die  ?” 


• Vul  fienburb 


140 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


A RALLY  FOR  IRELAND.* 
[may,  1689.lt 


Shout  it  out,  till  it  ring 
From  Beann-mhor  to  Cape  Cleire, 

For  our  country  and  king, 

And  religion  so  dear. 

Rally,  men!  rally — 

Irishmen ! rally ! 

Gather  round  the  dear  flag,  that,  wet  with  our  tears, 
And  torn,  and  bloody,  lay  hid  for  long  years, 

And  now,  once  again,  in  its  pride  re-appears. 

See ! from  The  Castle  our  green  banner  waves, 
Bearing  fit  motto  for  uprising  slaves — 

For  Now  or  never  ! 

Now  AND  FOR  EVER  ! 

Bids  you  to  battle  for  triumph  or  graves — 

Bids  you  to  burst  on  the  Sacsanach  knaves — 
Rally,  then,  rally ! 

Irishmen,  rally ! 

Shout  Now  or  never  ! 

Now  AND  FOR  EVER  ! 

Heed  not  their  fury,  however  it  raves, 

Welcome  their  horsemen  with  pikes  and  with 
staves, 


• Set  to  original  music  m “ Spirit  of  Nation,”  4to.,  p.  121. 
t Vide  Appendix 


A RALLY  FOR  IRELAND. 


141 


Close  on  their  cannon,  their  bay’nets,  and  glaives., 
Down  with  their  standard  wherever  it  waves ; 
Fight  to  the  last,  and  ye  cannot  he  slaves ! 

Fight  to  the  last,  and  ye  cannot  he  slaves ! 


n. 

Gallant  Sheldon  is  here, 

And  Hamilton,  too, 

And  Tirchonaill  so  dear, 

And  Mac  Carrthaigh,  so  true. 

And  there  are  Frenchmen; 

Skilful  and  staunch  men — 

De  Rosen,  Pont6e,  Pusignan,  and  Boisseleau, 

And  gallant  Lauzun  is  a coming,  you  know, 

With  Balldearg,  the  kinsman  of  great  Eoghan  Ruadh* 
From  Sionainn  to  Banna,  from  Life  to  Laoi,* 
The  country  is  rising  for  Libertie. 

Tho’  your  arms  are  rude, 

If  your  courage  he  good, 

As  the  traitor  fled  will  the  stranger  flee, 

At  another  Drom-mor,  from  “ the  Irishry.” 

Arm  peasant  and  lord  ! 

Grasp  musket  and  sword  ! 

Grasp  pike-staff  and  skian  ! 

Give  your  horses  the  rein ! 

March,  in  the  name  of  his  Majesty — 

Ulster  and  Munster  unitedly — 


* VulgOy  Shannon,  Bann,  Liffev,  and  Lee. 


142 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Townsman  and  peasant,  like  waves  of  the  sea — 
Leinster  and  Connacht  to  victory — 

Shoulder  to  shoulder  for  Liberty, 

Shoulder  to  shoulder  for  Liberty. 


m. 

Kirk,  Schomberg  and  Churchill 
Are  coming — what  then? 

We’ll  drive  them  and  Dutch  Will 
To  England  again ; 

We  can  laugh  at  each  threat, 

For  our  Parliament’s  met — 

De  Courcy,  O’Briain,  Mac  Domhnaill,  Le  Poer, 

O’Neill  and  St.  Lawrence,  and  others  go  leor , 

The  choice  of  the  land  from  Athluain*  to  the  shore ! 
They’ll  break  the  last  link  of  the  Sacsanach  chain— 
They’ll  give  us  the  lands  of  our  fathers  again ! 
Then  up  ye ! and  fight 
For  your  King  and  your  Right, 

Or  ever  toil  on,  and  never  complain, 

Tho’  they  trample  your  roof-tree,  and  rifle  youi 
fane. 

Rally,  then,  rally ! 

Irishmen,  rally — 

Fight  Now  OR  NEVER, 

Now  AND  FOR  EVER  ! 

Laws  are  in  vain  without  swords  to  maintain ; 

So,  muster  as  fast  as  the  fall  of  the  rain : 


Vulgo , Athlone. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  LIMERICK. 


143 


Serried  and  rough  as  a field  of  ripe  gram, 

Stand  by  your  flag  upon  mountain  and  plain : 
Charge  till  yourselves  or  your  foemen  are  slain  I 
Fight  till  yourselves  or  your  foemen  are  slain ! 


THE  BATTLE  OF  LIMERICK.* 
[August  27,  1690.] 

Air — Garradh  Eoghain.f 


I. 

Oh,  hurrah  ! for  the  men,  who,  when  danger  is  nign, 
Are  found  in  the  front,  looking  death  in  the  eye. 
Hurrah  ! for  the  men  who  kept  Limerick’s  wall, 

And  hurrah  ! for  bold  Sarsfield,  the  bravest  of  all. 
King  William’s  men  round  Limerick  lay 
His  cannon  crashed  from  day  to  day, 

Till  the  southern  wall  was  swept  away 

At  the  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas.\ 
’Tis  afternoon,  yet  hot  the  sun, 

When  William  fires  the  signal  gun, 

And,  like  its  flash,  his  columns  run 

On  the  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas . 

* Vide  Appendix.  t Garryowen. 

t “ Limerick  of  the  azure  river.’’  See  *'  The  Circuit  of  Ireland, 
p.  47  —Author’s  Note. 


144 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


H. 

Yet,  hurrah ! for  the  men,  who,  when  danger  is  nigh, 
Are  found  in  the  front,  looking  death  in  the  eye. 
Hurrah  ! for  the  men  who  kept  Limerick’s  wall, 

And  hurrah ! for  bold  Sarsfield,  the  bravest  of  all. 

The  breach  gaped  out  two  perches  wide, 

The  fosse  is  filled,  the  batteries  plied ; 

Can  the  Irishmen  that  onset  bide 

At  the  city  of  Luimneach  linnghlas. 
Across  the  ditch  the  columns  dash, 

Their  bayonets  o’er  the  rubbish  flash, 

When  sudden  comes  a rending  crash 

From  the  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghla^ 

hi. 

Then,  hurrah!  for  the  men,  who,  when  danger  is  nigk 
Are  found  in  the  front,  looking  death  in  the  eye. 
Hurrah ! for  the  men  who  kept  Limerick’s  wall, 

And  hurrah  ! for  bold  Sarsfield,  the  bravest  of  all. 

The  bullets  rain  in  pelting  shower, 

And  rocks  and  beams  from  wall  and  tower 
The  Englishmen  are  glad  to  cower 

At  the  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas. 
But,  rallied  soon,  again  they  pressed, 

Their  bayonets  pierced  full  many  a breast, 

Till  they  bravely  won  the  breach’s  crest 

At  the  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas . 


IV. 

Yet,  hurrah ! for  the  men,  who,  when  danger  is  nigh. 
Are  found  in  the  front,  looking  death  in  the  eye, 


THE  BATTLE  OF  LIMERICK. 


145 


Hurrah ! for  the  men  who  kept  Limerick’s  wall, 

Vnd  hurrah ! for  bold  Sarsfield,  the  bravest  of  all. 
Then  fiercer  grew  the  Irish  yell, 

And  madly  on  the  foe  they  fell, 

Till  the  breach  grew  like  the  jaws  of  hell-*— 

Not  the  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas. 
The  women  fought  before  the  men, 

Each  man  became  a match  for  ten, 

So  back  they  pushed  the  villains  then, 

From  the  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas • 

v. 

Then,  hurrah ! for  the  men,  who,  when  danger  is  nigh, 
Are  found  in  the  front,  looking  death  in  the  eye 
Hurrah  ! for  the  men  who  kept  Limerick’s  wall, 

And  hurrah ! for  bold  Sarsfield,  the  bravest  of  all. 

But  Bradenburgh  the  ditch  has  crost, 

And  gained  our  flank  at  little  cost — 

The  bastion’s  gone — the  town  is  lost ; 

Oh ! poor  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas 
When,  sudden,  Sarsfield  springs  the  mine, 

Like  rockets  rise  the  Germans  fine, 

And  come  down  dead,  ’mid  smoke  and  shine, 
At  the  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas . 


VI. 

So,  hurrah ! for  the  men,  who,  when  danger  is  mgn, 
Are  found  in  the  front,  looking  death  in  the  eye. 
Hurrah ! for  the  men  who  kept  Limerick’s  wall, 

And  hurrah  ! for  bold  Sarsfield,  the  bravest  of  all, 

13 


146 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Out,  with  a roar,  tho  Irish  sprung, 

And  back  the  beaten  English  flung 
Till  William  fled,  his  lords  among, 

F rom  tho  city  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas 
’’Tvvas  thus  was  fought  that  glorious  fight, 

By  Irishmen,  for  Ireland’s  right — 

May  all  such  days  have  such  a night 

As  the  battle  of  Luimneach  linn-ghlas 


PART  IV. 


Sallab  anii  langn 

ILLUSTRATIVE  OF 

IRISH  HISTORY. 


“ By  a Ballad  History  we  do  not  mean  a metrical  chronicle,  or  any 
continued  work,  but  a string  of  ballads  chronologically  arranged,  and 
illustrating  the  main  events  of  Irish  History,  its  characters,  customs, 
scenes,  and  passions. 

“ Exact  dates,  subtle  plots,  minute  connexions  and  motives,  rarely 
appear  in  Ballads ; and  for  these  ends  the  worst  prose  history  is 
superior  to  the  best  Ballad  series ; but  these  are  not  the  highest  ends 
of  history.  To  hallow  or  accurse  the  scenes  of  glory  and  honour, 
or  of  shame  and  sorrow — to  give  to  the  imagination  the  arms,  and 
nomes  and  senates,  and  battles  of  other  days — to  rouse  and  soften, 
and  strengthen  and  enlarge  us  with  the  passions  of  great  periods— 
to  lead  us  into  love  of  self-denial,  of  justice,  of  beauty,  of  valour,  of 
generous  life  and  proud  death — and  to  set  up  in  our  souls  the  me- 
mory of  great  men,  who  shall  then  be  as  models  and  judges  of  our 
actions — these  are  the  highest  duties  of  History,  and  these  are  best 
taught  by  a Ballad  History.” — Davis’s  Essays. 


THE  PENAL  DAYS. 

Air — The  Wheelwright 

I. 

Oh!  weep  those  days,  the  penal  days, 
When  Ireland  hopelessly  complained 


148 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


On  . weep  those  days,  the  penal  days, 
When  godless  persecution  reigned ; 
When,  year  by  year, 

For  serf  and  peer, 

Fresh  cruelties  were  made  by  law, 

And,  filled  with  hate, 

Our  senate  sate 

To  weld  anew  each  fetter’s  flaw ; 

Oh ! weep  those  days,  those  penal  days— 
Their  memory  still  on  Ireland  weighs. 


ii. 

They  bribed  the  flock,  they  bribed  the  son, 
To  sell  the  priest  and  rob  the  sire ; 
Their  dogs  were  taught  alike  to  run 
Upon  the  scent  of  wolf  and  friar. 

Among  the  poor, 

Or  on  the  moor, 

Were  hid  the  pious  and  the  true— 
While  traitor  knave, 

And  recreant  slave, 

Had  riches,  rank,  and  retinue : 

And,  exiled  in  those  penal  days, 

Our  banners  over  Europe  blaze. 

HI. 

A stranger  held  the  land  and  tower 
Of  many  a noble  fugitive  ; 

No  Popish  ord  had  lordly  power, 

The  peasant  scarce  had  leave  to  live 


TIIE  PENAL  DATS. 


149 


Above  his  head 
A ruined  shed, 

No  tenure  but  a tyrant’s  will — 

Forbid  to  plead, 

Forbid  to  read, 

Disarmed,  disfranchised,  imbecile — 

What  wonder  if  our  step  betrays 
The  freedman,  bom  in  penal  days  ? 

They’re  gone,  they’re  gone,  those  penal  days ! 

All  creeds  are  equal  in  our  isle ; 

Then  grant,  O Lord,  thy  plenteous  grace, 

Our  ancient  feuds  to  reconcile. 

Let  all  atone 
For  blood  and  groan, 

For  dark  revenge  and  open  wrong, 

Let  all  unite 
For  Ireland’s  right, 

And  drown  our  griefs  in  freedom’s  song ; 
Till  time  shall  veil  in  twilight  haze, 

The  memory  of  those  penal  days. 


150 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


THE  DEATH  OF  SARSFIELD.  * 

A CHAUNT  OF  THE  BRIGADE. 


I. 

Sarsfield  has  sailed  from  Limerick  Town, 
He  held  it  long  for  country  and  crown ; 

And  ere  he  yielded,  the  Saxon  swore 
To  spoil  our  homes  and  our  shrines  no  more. 


H. 

Sarsfield  and  all  his  chivalry 

Are  fighting  for  France  in  the  low  countrie— 

At  his  fiery  charge  the  Saxons  reel, 

They  learned  at  Limerick  to  dread  the  steel. 

hi. 

Sarsfield  is  dying  on  Landen’s  plain  ; 

His  corslet  hath  met  the  ball  in  vain — 

As  his  life-blood  gushes  into  his  hand, 

He  says,  “ Oh  ! that  this  was  for  father-land !” 

* Sarsfield  was  slain  on  the  29th  July,  1693,  at  Landen,  heading 
his  countrymen  in  the  van  of  victory, — King  William  flying.  He 
could  not  have  died  better.  His  last  thoughts  were  for  his  country. 
As  he  lay  on  the  field  unhelmed  and  dying,  he  put  his  hand  to  his 
breast.  When  he  took  it  away,  it  was  full  of  his  best  blood.  Look- 
ing at  it  sadly  with  an  eye  in  which  victory  shone  a moment  before, 
he  said  faintly,  “ Oh  ! that  this  were  for  Ireland.”  He  said  no  more  ; 
and  history  records  no  nobler  saying,  nor  any  more  becoming  death.— 
Author’s  Note. — Vide  Appendix,  for  a brief  sketch  of  the  services 
of  the  Irish  Brigade,  in  which  most  of  the  allusions  in  these  and 
several  of  the  following  poems  are  explained. — Ed. 


I 


THE  SURPRISE  OF  CREMCNA. 


151 


iv. 

Sarsfield  is  dead,  yet  no  tears  shed  we— 

For  he  died  in  the  arms  of  Victory, 

And  his  dying  words  shall  edge  the  brand, 
When  we  chase  the  foe  from  our  native  land  ! 


THE  SURPRISE  OF  CREMONA. 
(1702.) 

i. 

From  Milan  to  Cremona  Duke  Villeroy  rode, 
And  soft  are  the  beds  in  his  princely  abode ; 

In  billet  and  barrack  the  garrison  sleep, 

And  loose  is  the  watch  which  the  sentinels  keep : 
’Tis  the  eve  of  St.  David,  and  bitter  the  breeze 
Of  that  mid-winter  night  on  the  flat  Cremonese ; 
A fig  for  precaution  ! — Prince  Eugene  sits  down 
In  winter  cantonments  round  Mantua  town  ! 


n. 

Yet  through  Ustiano,  and  out  on  the  plain, 

Horse,  foot,  and  dragoons  are  defiling  amain 
“ That  flash  1”  said  Prince  Eugene,  “ Count  Meul, 
push  on” — 

like  a rock  from  a precipice  Merci  is  gone. 


152 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Proud  mutters  the  prince — “ That  is  Cassioli’s  sign : 
Ere  the  dawn  of  the  morning  Cremona  ’ll  be  mine — 
For  Merci  will  open  the  gate  of  the  Po, 

But  scant  is  the  mercy  Prince  Vaudemont  will  shew  !” 

HI. 

Through  gate,  street,  and  square,  with  his  keen  cava- 
liers— 

A flood  through  a gulley — Count  Merci  careers — 
They  ride  without  getting  or  giving  a blow, 

Nor  halt  ’till  they  gaze  on  the  gate  of  the  Po — 

“ Surrender  the  gate” — but  a volley  replied, 

For  a handful  of  Irish  are  posted  inside. 

By  my  faith,  Charles  Vaudemont  will  come  rather  late, 
If  he  stay  ’till  Count  Merci  shall  open  that  gate  ! 

IV. 

But  in  through  St.  Margaret’s  the  Austrians  pour, 

And  billet  and  barrack  are  ruddy  with  gore ; 

Unarmed  and  naked,  the  soldiers  are  slain — 

There’s  an  enemy’s  gauntlet  on  Villeroy’s  rein — 

“ A thousand  pistoles  and  a regiment  of  herse — 
Release  me,  MacDonuell  !”■ — they  hold  on  their  course, 
Count  Merci  has  seized  upon  cannon  and  wall, 

Prince  Eugene’s  head-quarters  are  in  the  Town-hall ! 


v. 

Here  and  there,  through  the  city,  some  readier  band, 
For  honour  and  safety,  undauntedly  stand. 

At  the  head  of  the  regiments  of  Dillon  and  Burke 
Ts  Major  O’Mahony,  flerce  as  a Turk. 


THE  SURPRISE  OF  CREMONA. 


153 


His  sabre  is  flashing — the  major  is  drest, 

But  muskets  and  shirts  are  the  clothes  of  the  rest! 

Yet  they  rush  to  the  ramparts — the  clocks  have  tolled 
ten — 

And  Count  Merci  retreats  with  the  half  of  his  men. 

VI. 

“In  on  them,”  said  Friedberg, — and  Dillon  is  broke, 
Like  forest-flowers  crushed  by  the  fall  of  the  oak ; 
Through  the  naked  battalions  the  cuirassiers  go  ; — 
But  the  man,  not  the  dress,  makes  the  soldier,  I trow 
Upon  them  with  grapple,  with  bay’net,  and  ball, 

Like  wolves  upon  gaze-hounds,  the  Irishmen  fall — 
Black  Friedberg  is  slain  by  O’Mahony’s  steel, 

And  back  from  the  bullets  the  cuirassiers  reel. 

VII. 

Oh  ! hear  you  their  shout  in  your  quarters,  Eugene  ? 

In  vain  on  Prince  Yaudemont  for  succour  you  lean ! 
The  bridge  has  been  broken,  and,  mark  ! how  pell-mel 
Come  riderless  horses,  and  volley  and  yell ! — 

He’s  a veteran  soldier — he  clenches  his  hands, 

He  springs  on  his  horse,  disengages  his  bands — 

He  rallies,  he  urges,  till,  hopeless  of  aid, 

He  is  chased  through  the  gates  by  the  Irish  Brigade 

viii. 

News,  news,  in  Vienna ! — King  Leopold’s  sad. 

News,  news,  in  St.  James’s ! — King  William  is  mad. 
News,  news,  in  Versailles — “Let  the  Irish  Brigade 
Be  loyally  honoured,  and  royally  paid.” 


154 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


News,  news,  in  old  Ireland — high  rises  her  pride, 
And  high  sounds  her  wail  for  her  children  who  died, 
And  deep  is  her  prayer, — “ God  send  I may  see 
“ MacDonncll  and  Mahony  fighting  for  me.” 


THE  FLOWER  OF  FINAE. 


i. 

Bright  red  is  the  sun  on  the  waves  of  Lough  Sneeliiij 
A cool  gentle  breeze  from  the  mountain  is  stealing, 
While  fair  round  its  islets  the  small  ripples  play, 

But  fairer  than  all  is  the  Flower  of  Finae. 

ii. 

Her  hair  is  like  night,  and  her  eyes  like  grey  morning, 
She  trips  on  the  heather  as  if  its  touch  scorning, 

Yet  her  heart  and  her  lips  are  as  mild  as  May  day, 
Sweet  Eily  MacMahon,  the  Flower  of  Finae. 

m. 

But  who  down  the  hill  side  than  red  deer  runs  fleeter 
And  who  on  the  lake  side  is  hastening  to  greet  her  ? 
Who  hut  Fergus  O’Farrell,  the  fiery  and  gay, 

The  darling  and  pride  of  the  Flower  of  Finae  1 


i 4 


THE  FLOWER  OF  FINAE.  155 

«.  t 

IV. 

One  kiss  and  one  clasp,  and  one  wild  look  of  gladness ; 
Ah ! why  do  they  change  on  a sudden  to  sadness— 
He  has  told  his  hard  fortune,  nor  more  he  can  stay, 

He  must  leave  his  poor  Eily  to  pine  at  Finae. 


v. 

For  Fergus  O’Farrell  was  true  to  his  sire-land, 

And  the  dark  hand  of  tyranny  drove  him  from  Ireland ; 
He  joins  the  Brigade,  in  the  wars  far  away, 

But  he  vows  he’ll  come  hack  to  the  Flower  of  Finae. 

VI. 

He  fought  at  Cremona — she  hears  of  his  story  , 

He  fought  at  Cassano — she’s  proud  of  his  glory, 

Yet  sadly  she  sings  Siubhail  a ruin * all  the  day, 

“ Oh,  come,  come,  my  darling,  come  home  to  Finae.’’ 

VII. 

Eight  long  years  have  passed,  till  she’s  nigh  broken 
hearted, 

Her  reel , and  her  rocfc,  and  her  flax  she  has  parted ; 

She  sails  with  the  “ Wild  Geese”  to  Flanders  away, 
And  leaves  her  sad  parents  alone  in  Finae. 

VIII. 

Lord  Clare  on  the  field  of  Ramil  lies  is  charging — 
Before  him,  the  Sacsanach  squadrons  enlarging— 


Vulgo , Shule  aroon. 


156 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Behind  him  the  Cravats  their  sections  display— 
Beside  him  rides  Fergus  and  shouts  for  Finae. 


IX. 

On  the  slopes  of  La  Judoigne  the  Frenchmen  are  flying 
Lord  Clare  and  his  squadrons  the  foe  still  defying, 
Outnumbered,  and  wounded,  retreat  in  array ; 

And  bleeding  rides  Fergus  and  thinks  of  Finae. 


x. 

In  the  cloisters  of  Ypres  a banner  is  swaying, 
And  by  it  a pale  weeping  maiden  is  praying ; 
That  flag’s  the  sole  trophy  of  Ramillies’  fray ; 
This  nun  is  poor  Eily,  the  Flower  of  Finae. 


THE  GIRL  I LEFT  BEHIND  ME. 

Air — The  girl  I left  behind  me . 


I. 

The  dames  of  France  are  fond  and  free, 
And  Flemish  lips  are  willing, 

And  soft  the  maids  of  Italy, 

And  Spanish  eyes  are  thrilling; 

Still,  though  I bask  beneath  their  smile, 
Their  charms  fail  to  bind  me, 

And  my  heart  flies  back  to  Erin’s  isle, 
To  the  girl  I left  behind  me. 


THE  GIRL  I LEFT  BEHIND  ME. 


157 


ii. 

For  she’s  as  fair  as  Shannon’s  side, 

And  purer  than  its  water, 

But  she  refused  to  be  my  bride 

Though  many  a year  I sought  her ; 

Yet,  since  to  France  I sailed  away, 

Her  letters  oft  remind  me 
That  I promised  never  to  gainsay 
The  girl  I left  behind  me. 

hi. 

She  says — “ My  own  dear  love,  come  home, 
My  friends  are  rich  and  many, 

Or  else  abroad  with  you  I’ll  roam 
A soldier  stout  as  any ; 

If  you’ll  not  come,  nor  let  me  go, 

I’ll  think  you  have  resigned  me.” 

My  heart  nigh  broke  when  I answered — No  I 
To  the  girl  I left  behind  me. 


IV. 

For  never  shall  my  true  love  brave 
A life  of  war  and  toiling ; 

And  never  as  a skulking  slave 
I’ll  tread  my  native  soil  on ; 

But,  were  it  free  or  to  be  freed, 

The  battle’s  close  would  find  me 
To  Ireland  bound — nor  message  need 
From  the  girl  I left  behind  me. 

14 


158 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


CLARE’S  DRAGOONS  * 
Air — Viva  la. 


i. 

When,  on  Ramillies’  bloody  field, 

The  baffled  French  were  forced  to  yield, 
The  victor  Saxon  backward  reeled 

Before  the  charge  of  Clare’s  Dragoons. 
The  Flags,  we  conquered  in  that  fray, 
Look  lone  in  Ypres’  choir,  they  say, 

We’ll  win  them  company  to-day, 

Or  bravely  die  like  Clare’s  Dragoons. 

CHORUS. 

Viva  la,  for  Ireland’s  wrong ! 

Viva  la,  for  Ireland’s  right ! 

Viva  la,  in  battle  throng, 

For  a Spanish  steed,  and  sabre  bright ! 

n. 

The  brave  old  lord  died  near  the  fight, 

But,  for  each  drop  he  lost  that  night, 

A Saxon  cavalier  shall  bite 

The  dust  before  Lord  Clare’s  Dragoons. 
For  never,  when  our  spurs  were  set, 

And  never,  when  our  sabres  met, 

Could  we  the  Saxon  soldiers  get 

To  stand  the  shock  of  Clare’s  Dragoons. 


* Vide  Append' r. 


clare’s  dragoons. 


159 


CHORUS. 

Viva  la , the  New  Brigade ! 

Viva  la , the  Old  One,  too  ! 

Viva  la , the  rose  shall  fade, 

And  the  Shamrock  shine  for  ever  new ! 

hi. 

Another  Clare  is  here  to  lead, 

The  worthy  son  of  such  a breed; 

The  French  expect  some  famous  deed, 
When  Clare  leads  on  his  bold  Dragoons. 
Our  Colonel  comes  from  Brian’s  race, 

His  wounds  are  in  his  breast  and  face, 

The  bearna  baoghail*  is  still  his  place, 

The  foremost  of  his  bold  Dragoons. 

CHORUS. 

Viva  la , the  New  Brigade  ! 

Viva  la , the  Old  One,  too ! 

Viva  la , the  rose  shall  fade, 

And  the  Shamrock  shine  for  ever  new ! 


rv. 

There’s  not  a man  in  squadron  here 
Was  ever  known  to  flinch  or  fear ; 
Though  first  in  charge  and  last  in  rere, 
Have  ever  been  Lord  Clare’s  Dragoons ; 


* Gap  of  danger. 


160 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


But,  see  ! we’ll  soon  have  work  to  do, 

To  shame  our  boasts,  or  prove  them  true, 
For  hither  comes  the  English  crew, 

To  sweep  away  Lord  Clare’s  Dragoons. 


CHORUS. 

Viva  la , for  Ireland’s  wrong ! 

Viva  la , for  Ireland’s  right ! 

Viva  la , in  battle  throng, 

For  a Spanish  steed  and  sabre  bright ! 


v. 

Oh ! comrades ! think  how  Ireland  pines, 
Her  exiled  lords,  her  rifled  shrines, 

Her  dearest  hope,  the  ordered  lines, 

And  bursting  charge  of  Clare’s  Dragoons. 
Then  bring  your  Green  Flag  to  the  sky, 

Be  Limerick  your  battle-cry, 

And  charge,  till  blood  floats  fetlock-high, 
Around  the  track  of  Clare’s  Dragoons ! 


CHORUS. 

Viva  la , the  New  Brigade ! 

Viva  la , the  Old  One,  too ! 

Viva  la , the  rose  shall  fade, 

And  the  Shamrock  shine  for  ever  new ! 


WHEN  SOUTH  WINDS  BLOW. 


161 


WHEN  SOUTH  WINDS  BLOW, 

Air — The  gentle  Maiden . 

i. 

Why  sits  the  gentle  maiden  there, 

While  surfing  billows  splash  around? 

Why  doth  she  southwards  wildly  stare, 

And  sing,  with  such  a fearful  sound — 

“The  Wild  Geese  fly  where  others  walk; 

The  Wild  Geese  do  what  others  talk — 

The  way  is  long  from  France,  you  know — 

He’ll  come  at  last  when  south  winds  blow.” 

li. 

Oh ! softly  was  the  maiden  nurst 
In  Castle  Connell’s  lordly  towers, 

Where  Skellig’s  billows  boil  and  burst, 

And,  far  above,  Dunkerron  towers  : 

And  she  was  noble  as  the  hill — 

Yet  battle-flags  are  nobler  still : 

And  she  was  graceful  as  the  wave — 

Yet  who  would  live  a tranquil  slave? 

m. 

And,  so,  her  lover  went  to  France, 

To  serve  the  foe  of  Ireland’s  foe ; 

Yet  deep  he  swore — “ Whatever  chance, 

“ I’ll  come  some  day  when  sou th  winds  blow” 

14* 


162 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


And  prouder  hopes  he  told  beside, 

How  she  should  be  a prince’s  bride, 

How  Louis  would  the  Wild  Geese*  send, 

And  Ireland’s  weary  woes  should  end 

IV. 

But  tyrants  quenched  her  father’s  hearth, 

And  wrong  and  absence  warped  her  mind ; 

The  gentle  maid,  of  gentle  birth, 

Is  moaning  madly  to  the  wind — 

“ He  said  he’d  come,  whate’er  betide : 

He  said  I’d  be  a happy  bride : 

Oh  ! long  the  way  and  hard  the  foe — 

He’ll  come  when  south — when  south  winds  blow  !" 


THE  BATTLE  EVE  OF  THE  BRIGADE 

Am — Contented  I am, 

I. 

The  mess-tent  is  full,  and  the  glasses  are  set, 

And  the  gallant  Count  Thomond  is  president  yet ; 

* The  recruiting  for  the  Brigade  was  carried  on  in  the  French  ships 
which  smuggled  brandies,  wines,  silks,  &c  , to  the  western  and  south- 
western coasts.  Their  return  cargoes  were  recruits  for  the  Brigade, 
and  were  entered  in  their  books  as  Wild  Geese.  Hence  this  became 
the  common  name  in  Ireland  for  the  Irish  serving  in  the  Biigade.  The 
fec/uiting  was  chiefly  from  Clare,  Limerick,  Cork,  Kerry,  and  Galway 
—Author’s  Note. 


THE  BATTLE  EVE  OF  THE  BRIGADE.  16$ 

The  vet’ran  arose,  like  an  uplifted  lance, 

Crying — “Comrades,  a health  to  the  monarch  of 
France !” 

With  bumpers  and  cheers  they  have  done  as  he  bade, 
For  King  Louis  is  loved  by  The  Irish  Brigade. 

n. 

“ A health  to  King  James,”  and  they  bent  as  they 
quaffed, 

“Here’s  to  George  the  Elector ,”  and  fiercely  they 
laughed, 

**  Good  luck  to  the  girls  we  wooed  long  ago, 

Where  Shannon,  and  Barrow,  and  Blackwater  flow 
“ God  prosper  Old  Ireland,” — you’d  think  them  afraid, 
So  pale  grew  the  chiefs  of  The  Irish  Brigade. 

hi. 

“ But,  surely,  that  light  cannot  come  from  our  lamp  ? 
And  that  noise — are  they  all  getting  drunk  in  the 
camp  V' 

“ Hurrah ! boys,  the  morning  of  battle  is  come, 

And  the  gener ale's  beating  on  many  a drum.” 

So  they  rush  from  the  revel  to  join  the  parade ; 

For  the  van  is  the  right  of  The  Irish  Brigade. 

IV. 

They  fought  as  they  revelled,  fast,  fiery,  and  true, 

And,  though  victors,  they  left  on  the  field  not  a few ; 
And  they,  who  survived,  fought  and  drank  as  of  yore, 
But  the  land  of  their  heart’s  hope  they  never  saw  more ; 


164 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


For  in  far  foreign  fields,  from  Dunkirk  to  Belgrade, 
Lie  the  soldiers  and  chiefs  of  The  Irish  Brigade. 


FONTENOY* 

(1745.) 


Thrice,  at  the  huts  of  Fontenoy,  the  English  column 
failed, 

And,  twice,  the  lines  of  Saint  Antoine,  the  Dutch  in 
vain  assailed ; 

For  town  and  slope  were  filled  with  fort  and  flanking 
battery, 

And  well  they  swept  the  English  ranks,  and  Dutch 
auxiliary. 

As  vainly,  through  De  Barri’s  wood,  the  British  soldiers 
burst, 

The  French  artillery  drove  them  back,  diminished,  and 
dispersed. 

The  bloody  Duke  of  Cumberland  beheld  with  anxious 
eye, 

And  ordered  up  his  last  reserve,  his  latest  chance  to 
try; 


Vide  Appendix. 


FONTENOT. 


165 


On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  how  fast  his  generals  ride f 

And  mustering  come  his  chosen  troops,  like  clouds  at 
eventide. 

ii. 

Six  thousand  English  veterans  in  stately  column  tread, 

Their  cannon  blaze  in  front  and  flank,  Lord  Hay  is  at 
their  head ; 

Steady  they  step  a-down  the  slope — steady  they  climb 
the  hill ; 

Steady  they  load — steady  they  fire,  moving  right  on- 
ward still, 

Betwixt  the  wood  and  Fontenoy,  as  through  a furnace 
blast, 

Through  rampart,  trench,  and  palisade,  and  bullets 
showering  fast ; 

And  on  the  open  plain  above  they  rose,  and  kept  their 
course, 

With  ready  fire  and  grim  resolve,  that  mocked  at  hos- 
tile force : 

Past  Fontenoy,  past  Fontenoy,  while  thinner  grow  their 
ranks — 

They  break,  as  broke  the  Zuyder  Zee  through  Holland’s 
ocean  banks. 


m. 

More  idly  than  the  summer  flies,  French  tirailleurs  rush 
round ; 

As  stubble  to  the  lava  tide,  French  squadrons  strew  the 
ground ; 


166 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Bomb-shell,  and  grape,  and  round-shot  tore,  still  on  they 
marched  and  fired — 

Fast,  from  each  volley,  grenadier  and  voltigeur  retired. 

“ Push  on,  my  household  cavalry !”  King  Louis  madly 
cried : 

To  death  they  rush,  but  rude  their  shock — not  una- 
venged they  died. 

On  through  the  camp  the  column  trod — King  Louis 
turns  his  rein : 

44  Not  yet,  my  liege,”  Saxe  interposed,  44  the  Irish  troops 
remain :” 

And  Fontenoy,  famed  Fontenoy,  had  been  a Waterloo, 

Were  not  these  exiles  ready  then,  fresh,  vehement,  and 
true. 


IV. 

44  Lord  Clare,”  he  says, 44  you  have  your  wish,  there  are 
your  Saxon  foes !” 

The  Marshal  almost  smiles  to  see,  so  furiously  he  goes ! 

How  fierce  the  look  these  exiles  wear,  who’re  wont  to 
be  so  gay, 

The  treasured  wrongs  of  fifty  years  are  in  their  hearts 
to-day — 

The  treaty  broken,  ere  the  ink  wherewith  ’twas  writ 
could  dry, 

Their  plundered  homes,  their  ruined  shrines,  their  wo- 
men’s parting  cry, 

Their  priesthood  hunted  down  like  wolves,  their  coun- 
try overthrown, — 

Each  looks,  as  if  revenge  for  all  were  staked  on  him 
a'one. 


FONTENOY. 


161 


On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  nor  ever  yet  elsewhere, 
Rushed  on  to  fight  a nobler  band  than  these  proud  exilea 
were. 


v. 

O’Brien’s  voice  is  hoarse  with  joy,  as,  halting,  he  com- 
mands, 

“Fix  bay’nets” — “Charge,” — Like  mountain  storm, 
rush  on  these  fiery  bands ! 

Thin  is  the  English  column  now,  and  faint  their 
volleys  grow, 

Yet,  must’ring  all  the  strength  they  have,  they  make  a 
gallant  show. 

They  dress  their  ranks  upon  the  hill  to  face  that  battle- 
wind— 

Their  bayonets  the  breakers’  foam ; like  rocks,  the  men 
behind ! 

One  volley  crashes  from  their  line,  when,  through  the 
surging  smoke, 

With  empty  guns  clutched  in  their  hands,  the  headlong 
Irish  broke. 

On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  hark  to  that  fierce  huzza ! 

44  Revenge ! remember  Limerick ! dash  down  the 
Sacsanach !” 


VI. 

Like  lions  leaping  at  a fold,  when  mad  with  hunger’s 
pang, 

Right  up  against  the  English  line  the  Irish  exiles 
sprang : 


168 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Bright  was  their  steel,  ’tis  bloody  now,  their  guns  are 
filled  with  gore ; 

Through  shattered  ranks,  and  severed  files,  and  trampled 
flags  they  tore ; 

The  English  strove  with  desperate  strength,  paused, 
rallied,  staggered,  fled — 

The  green  hill  side  is  matted  close  with  dying  and  with 
dead. 

Across  the  plain,  and  far  away  passed  on  that  hideous 
wrack, 

While  cavalier  and  fantassin  dash  in  upon  their  track. 

On  Fontenoy,  on  Fontenoy,  like  eagles  in  the  sun, 

With  bloody  plumes  the  Irish  stand — the  field  is  fought 
and  won ! 


THE  DUNGANNON  CONVENTION. 
(1782.) 


i. 

The  church  of  Dungannon  is  full  to  the  door, 

And  sabre  and  spur  clash  at  times  on  the  floor, 
While  helmet  and  shako  are  ranged  all  along, 

Yet  no  book  of  devotion  is  seen  in  the  throng. 

In  the  front  of  the  altar  no  minister  stands, 

But  the  crimson-clad  chief  of  these  warrior  bands ; 


DUNGANNON  CONVENTION, 


169 


And  though  solemn  the  looks  and  the  voices  around, 
You’d  listen  in  vain  for  a litany’s  sound. 

Say ! what  do  they  hear  in  the  temple  of  prayer  ? 

Oh ! why  in  the  fold  has  the  lion  his  lair  ? 

ii. 

Sad,  wounded,  and  wan  was  the  face  of  our  isle, 

By  English  oppression,  and  falsehood,  and  guile  ? 

Yet  when  to  invade  it  a foreign  fleet  steered, 

To  guard  it  for  England  the  North  volunteered. 

From  the  citizen-soldiers  the  foe  fled  aghast— 

Still  they  stood  to  their  guns  when  the  danger  had  past, 
For  the  voice  of  America  came  o’er  the  wave, 

Crying — Woe  to  the  tyrant,  and  hope  to  the  slave!— 
Indignation  and  shame  through  their  regiments  speed, 
They  have  arms  in  their  hands,  and  what  more  do  they 
need? 


in. 

O’er  the  green  hills  of  Ulster  their  banners  are  spread, 
The  cities  of  Leinster  resound  to  their  tread, 

The  vallies  of  Munster  with  ardour  are  stirred, 

And  the  plains  of  wild  Connaught  their  bugles  have 
heard ; 

A Protestant  front-rank  and  Catholic  rere— 

For — forbidden  the  arms  of  freemen  to  bear — * 

Yet  foeman  and  friend  are  full  sure,  if  need  be, 

The  slave  for  his  country  will  stand  by  the  free. 

By  green  flags  supported,  the  Orange  flags  wave, 

And  the  soldier  half  turns  to  unfetter  the  slave ! 

15 


170 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


IV. 

More  honoured  that  church  of  Dungannon  is  now, 
Than  when  at  its  altar  communicants  bow ; 

More  welcome  to  heaven  than  anthem  or  prayer, 

Are  the  rites  and  the  thoughts  of  the  warriors  there  ; 
In  the  name  of  all  Ireland  the  Delegates  swore  : 
“We’ve  suffered  too  long,  and  we’ll  suffer  no  more — 
Unconquered  by  Force,  we  were  vanquished  by  Fraud 
And  now,  in  God’s  temple,  we  vow  unto  God, 

That  never  again  shall  the  Englishman  bind 
His  chains  on  our  limbs,  or  his  laws  on  our  mind.” 

v. 

The  church  of  Dungannon  is  empty  once  more — 

No  plumes  on  the  altar,  no  clash  on  the  floor. 

But  the  councils  of  England  are  fluttered  to  see, 

In  the  cause  of  their  country,  the  Irish  agree  ; 

So  they  give  as  a boon  what  they  dare  not  withhold, 
And  Ireland,  a nation,  leaps  up  as  of  old, 

With  a name,  and  a trade,  and  a flag  of  her  own, 

And  an  army  to  fight  for  the  people  and  throne. 

But  woe  worth  the  day  if  to  falsehood  or  fears 
She  surrender  the  guns  of  her  brave  Volunteers  ! 


SONG  OF  THE  VOLUNTEERS  OF  1782. 


171 


SONG  OF  THE  VOLUNTEERS  OF  1782. 

Air — Boyne  Water . 

i. 

Hurrah  ! ’tis  done — our  freedom’s  won— 
Hurrah  for  the  Volunteers ! 

No  laws  we  own,  but  those  alone 
Of  our  Commons,  King,  and  Peers. 

The  chain  is  broke — the  Saxon  yoke 
From  off  our  neck  is  taken; 

Ireland  awoke — Dungannon  spoke — 

With  fear  was  England  shaken. 

II. 

When  Grattan  rose,  none  dared  oppose 
The  claim  he  made  for  freedom : 

They  knew  our  swords,  to  back  his  words, 
Were  ready,  did  he  need  them. 

Then  let  us  raise,  to  Grattan’s  praise, 

A proud  and  joyous  anthem ; 

And  wealth,  and  grace,  and  length  of  days. 
May  God,  in  mercy  grant  him ! 

hi. 

Bless  Harry  Flood,  who  nobly  stood 
By  us,  through  gloomy  years! 

Bless  Charlemont,  the  brave  and  good, 

The  Chief  of  the  Volunteers  ! 


172 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


The  Ncith  began  ; the  North  held  on 
The  strife  for  native  land ; 

Till  Ireland  rose,  and  cowed  her  foes— 
God  bless  the  Northern  land  ! 


IV. 

And  bless  the  men  of  patriot  pen — 

Swift,  Molyneux,  and  Lucas  ; 

Bless  sword  and  gun,  which  “ Free  Trade”  won— 
Bless  God!  who  ne’er  forsook  us  ! 

And  long  may  last,  the  friendship  fast, 

Which  binds  us  all  together ; 

While  we  agree,  our  foes  shall  flee 
Like  clouds  in  stormy  weather. 


y. 

Remember  still,  through  good  and  ill, 

How  vain  were  prayers  and  tears — 

How  vain  were  words,  till  flashed  the  swords 
Of  the  Irish  Volunteers. 

By  arms  we’ve  got  the  rights  we  sought 
Through  long  and  wretched  years — 
Hurrah ! ’tis  done,  our  freedom’s  won — 
Hurrah  for  the  Volunteers! 


THE  MEN  OF  ’EIGHTY-TWO. 


173 


THE  MEN  OF  ’EIGHTY-TWO. 

Am — An  Cruisgin  Lan. 


i. 

To  rend  a cruel  chain, 

To  end  a foreign  reign, 

The  swords  of  the  Volunteers  were  drawn. 

And  instant  from  their  sway, 
Oppression  fled  away ; 

So  we’ll  drink  them  in  a cruisgin  lan , lan , Zan, 
We’ll  drink  them  in  a cruisgin  lan ! 


II. 

Within  that  host  were  seen 
The  Orange,  Blue,  and  Green— 
The  Bishop  for  it’s  coat  left  his  lawn— 
The  peasant  and  the  lord 
Ranked  in  with  one  accord, 

Like  brothers  at  a cruisgin  lan , lan , lany 
Like  brothers  at  a cruisgin  lan  ! 


HI. 

With  liberty  there  came 
Wit,  eloquence,  and  fame  ; 

Our  feuds  went  like  mists  from  the  dawn , 
15* 


174 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


Old  bigotry  disdained — 

Old  privilege  retained — 

Oh ! sages,  fill  a cruisgin  Ian , Zdn,  Ian , 
And,  boys,  fill  up  a cruisgin  Ian  ! 


IV. 

The  trader’s  coffers  filled, 

The  barren  lands  were  tilled, 

Our  ships  on  the  waters  thick  as  spawn— 
Prosperity  broke  forth, 

Like  summer  in  the  north — 

Ye  merchants!  fill  a cruisgin  Ian , Ian , Zan* 

Ye  farmers ! fill  a cruisgin  Ian  ! 

v. 

The  memory  of  that  day 
Shall  never  pass  away, 

Tho’  it’s  fame  shall  be  yet  outshone ; 

We’ll  grave  it  on  our  shrines, 

We’ll  shout  it  in  our  lines — 

Old  Ireland ! fill  a cruisgin  Ian , Ian , Zan, 
Young  Ireland!  fill  a cruisgin  Ian! 

VI. 

And  drink — The  Volunteers, 

Their  generals,  and  seers, 

Their  gallantry,  their  genius,  and  their  brawn  • 
With  water,  or  with  wine — 

The  draught  is  but  a sign — 

The  purpose  fills  the  cruisgin  Idny  Ian , Zdn, 
This  purpose  fills  the  cruisgin  Ian  ! 


NATIVE  SWORDS. 


176 


VII. 

That  ere  Old  Ireland  goes, 

And  while  Young  Ireland  glows, 
The  swords  of  our  sires  be  girt  on, 

And  loyally  renew 

The  work  of  ’Eighty-two— 

Oh ! gentlemen — a cruisgin  Ian , Ian , Zdn, 
Our  freedom ! in  a cruisgin  Ian  ! 


NATIVE  SWORDS. 

(A  VOLUNTEER  SONG. — 1ST  JULY,  1792.) 
Air — Boyne  Water. 

We’ve  bent  too  long  to  braggart  wrong, 
While  force  our  prayers  derided  ; 

We’ve  fought  too  long,  ourselves  among, 
By  knaves  and  priests  divided ; 

United  now,  no  more  we’ll  bow, 

Foul  faction,  we  discard  it; 

And  now,  thank  God  ! our  native  sod 
Has  Native  Swords  to  guard  it. 


176 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


n. 

Like  rivers,  which,  o’er  valleys  rich. 
Bring  ruin  in  their  water, 

On  native  land,  a native  hand 

Flung  foreign  fraud  and  slaughter. 

From  Dermod’s  crime  to  Tudor’s  time 
Our  clans  were  our  perdition ; 

Religion’s  name,  since  then,  became 
Our  pretext  for  division. 

hi. 

But,  worse  than  all,  with  Lim’rick’s  fall 
Our  valour  seem’d  to  perish ; 

Or  o’er  the  main,  in  France  and  Spain, 
For  bootless  vengeance  flourish. 

The  peasant,  here,  grew  pale  for  fear 
He’d  suffer  for  our  glory, 

While  France  sang  joy  for  Fontenoy, 
And  Europe  hymned  our  story. 

rv. 

But,  now,  no  clan,  nor  factious  plan, 
The  East  and  West  can  sunder — 

Why  Ulster  e’er  should  Munster  fear 
Can  only  wake  our  wonder. 

Religion’s  crost,  when  union’s  lost, 
And  “ royal  gifts  ” retard  it ; 

But  now,  thank  God ! our  native  sod 
Has  Native  Swords  to  guard  it . 


tone’s  grave. 


177 


TONE’S  GRAVE. 

i. 

In  Bodenstown  Churchyard  there  is  a green  grave, 

And  wildly  along  it  the  winter  winds  rave  ; 

Small  shelter,  I ween,  are  the  ruined  walls  there, 
When  the  storm  sweeps  down  on  the  plains  of  Kildare, 


ii. 

Once  I lay  on  that  sod — it  lies  over  Wolfe  Tone — 
And  I thought  how  he  perished  in  prison  alone, 

His  friends  unavenged,  and  his  country  unfreed— 

“ Oh,  bitter,”  I said,  “ is  the  patriot’s  meed ; 

hi. 

For  in  him  the  heart  of  a woman  combined 
With  a heroic  life,  and  a governing  mind— 

A martyr  for  Ireland — his  grave  has  no  stone — 

His  name  seldom  named,  and  his  virtues  unknown. 


rv. 

I was  woke  from  my  dream  by  the  voices  and  tread 
Of  a band,  who  came  into  the  home  of  the  dead ; 

They  carried  no  corpse,  and  they  carried  no  stone, 

And  they  stopped  when  they  came  to  the  grave  of  Wolfe 
Tone. 


178 


HISTORICAL  BALLADS. 


V. 

There  were  students  and  peasants,  the  wise  and  tho 
brave, 

And  an  old  man  who  knew  him  from  cradle  to  grave, 
And  children  who  thought  me  hard-hearted ; for  they, 
On  that  sanctified  sod  were  forbidden  to  play. 


VI. 

But  the  old  man,  who  saw  I was  mourning  there,  said, 
“ We  come,  sir,  to  weep  where  young  Wolfe  Tone  is 
laid, 

And  we’re  going  to  raise  him  a monument,  too — 

A plain  one,  yet  fit  for  the  simple  and  true.” 

VII. 

My  heart  overflowed,  and  I clasped  his  old  hand, 

And  I blessed  him,  and  blessed  every  one  of  his  band ; 
“ Sweet ! sweet ! ’tis  to  find  that  such  faith  can  remain 
To  the  cause,  and  the  man  so  long  vanquished  and  slain.” 

VIII. 

In  Bodenstown  Churchyard  there  is  a green  grave, 
And  freely  around  it  let  winter  winds  rave — 

Far  better  they  suit  him — the  ruin  and  gloom, — 

Tili  Ireland,  a Nation,  can  build  him  a Tomb. 


PAKT  Y. 


y&mtWmm  $mmB. 


“ Nationality  is  nc  longer  an  unmeaning  or  despised  name  among 
us.  It  is  welcomed  by  the  higher  ranks,  it  is  the  inspiration  of  the 
bold,  and  the  hope  of  the  people.  It  is  the  summary  name  for  many 
things.  It  seeks  a Literature  made  by  Irishmen,  and  coloured  by  our 
scenery,  manners,  and  character.  It  desires  to  see  Art  applied  to  ex- 
press Irish  thoughts  and  belief.  It  would  make  our  Music  sound  in 
every  parish  at  twilight,  our  Pictures  sprinkle  the  walls  of  every 
house,  and  our  Poetry  and  History  sit  at  every  hearth. 

“ It  would  thus  create  a race  of  men  full  of  a more  intensely  Irish 
character  and  knowledge,  and  to  that  race  it  would  give  Ireland.  It 
would  give  them  the  seas  of  Ireland  to  sweep  with  their  nets  and  launch 
on  with  their  navy  ; the  harbours  of  Ireland,  to  receive  a greater  com- 
merce than  any  island  in  the  world  ; the  soil  of  Ireland  to  live  on,  by 
more  millions  than  starve  here  now  ; the  fame  of  Ireland  to  enhance 
by  their  genius  and  valour  ; the  Independence  of  Ireland  to  guard  bv 
laws  and  arms.” Davis’s  Essays. 


NATIONALITY. 

i. 

A nation’s  voice,  a nation’s  voice — 
It  is  a solemn  tning ! 

It  bids  the  bondage-sick  rejoice— 
’Tis  stronger  than  a king. 


180 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


’Tis  like  the  light  of  many  stars, 

The  sound  of  many  waves ; 

Which  brightly  look  through  prison-bars 
And  sweetly  sound  in  caves. 

Yet  is  it  noblest,  godliest  known, 

When  righteous  triumph  swells  its  tone. 


n. 

A nation’s  flag,  a nation’s  flag — 

If  wickedly  unrolled, 

May  foes  in  adverse  battle  drag 
Its  every  fold  from  fold. 

But,  in  the  cause  of  Liberty, 

Guard  it  ’gainst  Earth  and  Hell ; 
Guard  it  till  Death  or  Victory — 

Look  you,  you  guard  it  well ! 

No  saint  or  king  has  tomb  so  proud, 
As  he  whose  flag  becomes  his  shroud. 

hi. 

A nation’s  right,  a nation’s  right — 
God  gave  it,  and  gave,  too, 

A nation’s  sword,  a nation’s  might, 
Danger  to  guard  it  through. 

’Tis  freedom  from  a foreign  yoke, 

’Tis  just  and  equal  laws, 

Which  deal  unto  the  humblest  folk, 
As  in  a noble’s  cause. 

On  nations  fixed  in  right  and  truth, 
God  would  bestow  eternal  ycuth. 


SELF-RELIANCE. 


181 


IV. 

May  Ireland’s  voice  be  ever  heard 
Amid  the  world’s  applause  ! 

And  never  be  her  flag-staff  stirred, 
But  in  an  honest  cause  ! 

May  Freedom  be  her  very  breath, 
Be  Justice  ever  dear ; 

And  never  an  ennobled  death 
May  son  of  Ireland  fear  ! 

So  the  Lord  God  will  ever  smile, 
With  guardian  grace,  upon  our  isle. 


SELF-RELIANCE. 

i. 

Though  savage  force  and  subtle  schemes, 

And  alien  rule,  through  ages  lasting, 

Have  swept  your  land  like  lava  streams, 

Its  wealth,  and  name,  and  nature  blasting, 
Rot  not,  therefore,  in  dull  despair, 

Nor  moan  at  destiny  in  far  lands: 

Face  not  your  foe  with  bosom  bare, 

Nor  hide  your  chains  in  pleasure’s  garlands, 
The  wise  man  arms  to  combat  wrong, 

The  brave  man  clears  a den  of  lions, 

16 


182 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


The  true  man  spurns  the  Helot’s  song ; 
The  freeman’s  friend  is  Self-Reliance  ! 


ii. 

Though  France,  that  gave  your  exiles  bread. 

Your  priests  a home,  your  hopes  a station 
Or  that  young  land,  where  first  was  spread 
The  starry  flag  of  Liberation, — 

Should  heed  your  wrongs  some  future  day, 
And  send  you  voice  or  sword  to  plead  ’em, 
With  helpful  love  their  help  repay, 

But  trust  not  even  to  them  for  Freedom. 

A Nation  freed  by  foreign  aid 
Is  but  a corpse  by  wanton  science 
Convulsed  like  life,  then  flung  to  fade — 

The  life  itself  is  Self-Reliance ! 


hi. 

Oh ! see  your  quailing  tyrant  run 

To  courteous  lies,  and  Roman  agents ; 

His  terror,  lest  Dungannon’s  sun 

Should  rise  again  with  riper  radiance. 

Oh ! hark  the  Freeman’s  welcome  cheer, 

And  hark  your  brother  sufferers  sobbing ; 

Oh ! mark  the  universe  grow  clear, 

And  mark  your  spirit’s  royal  throbbing, — 

’Tis  Freedom’s  God  that  sends  such  signs, 
As  pledges  of  his  blest  alliance; 

He  gives  brignt  hopes  to  brave  designs, 

And  lends  his  bolts  to  Self-Reliance  ! 


SWEET  AND  SAD. 


183 


IV. 

Then,  flung  alone,  or  hand-in-hand, 

In  mirthful  hour,  or  spirit  solemn ; 

In  lowly  toil,  or  high  command, 

In  social  hall,  or  charging  column ; 

In  tempting  wealth,  and  trying  woe, 

In  struggling  with  a mob’s  dictation ; 
In  bearing  back  a foreign  foe, 

In  training  up  a troubled  nation  : 

Still  hold  to  Truth,  abound  in  Love, 
Refusing  every  base  compliance — 
Your  Praise  within,  your  Prize  above, 
And  live  and  die  in  Self-Reliance  ! 


SWEET  AND  SAD. 

A PRISON  SERMON. 

I. 

’Tis  sweet  to  climb  the  mountain’s  crest, 
And  run,  like  deer-hound,  down  its  breast ; 
*Tis  sweet  to  snuff  the  taintless  air, 

And  sweep  the  sea  with  haughty  stare  : 

And,  sad  it  is,  when  iron  bars 

Keep  watch  between  you  and  the  stars ; 


184 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


And  sad  to  find  your  footstep  stayed 
By  prison-wall  and  palisade : 

But  ’twere  better  be 
A prisoner  for  ever, 

With  no  destiny 

To  do,  or  to  endeavour ; 
Better  life  to  spend 
A martyr  or  confessor, 

Than  in  silence  bend 
To  alien  and  oppressor. 


n. 

’Tis  sweet  to  rule  an  ample  realm, 

Through  weal  and  woe  to  hold  the  helm ; 

And  sweet  to  strew,  with  plenteous  hand, 
Strength,  health,  and  beauty,  round  your  land 
And  sad  it  is  to  be  unprized, 

While  dotards  rule,  unrecognised  ; 

And  sad  your  little  ones  to  see 
Writhe  in  the  gripe  of  poverty : 

But  ’twere  better  pine 

In  rags  and  gnawing  hunger, 

While  around  you  whine 

Your  elder  and  your  younger; 

Better  lie  in  pain, 

And  rise  in  pain  to-morrow, 

Than  o’er  millions  reign, 

While  those  millions  sorrow. 


SWEET  AND  SAD. 


185 


III. 

’Tis  sweet  to  own  a quiet  hearth, 
Begirt  by  constancy  and  mirth; 

’Twere  sweet  to  feel  your  dying  clasp 
Returned  by  friendship’s  steady  grasp 
And  sad  it  is,  to  spend  your  life, 

Like  sea-bird  in  the  ceaseless  strife— 
Your  lullaby  the  ocean’s  roar, 

Your  resting-place  a foreign  shore  : 
But  ’twere  better  live, 

Like  ship  caught  by  Lofoden, 
Than  your  spirit  give 

To  be  by  chains  corroden : 

Best  of  all  to  yield 
Your  latest  breath,  when  lying 
On  a victor  field, 

With  the  green  flag  flying ! 


IV. 

Human  joy  and  human  sorrow, 

Light  or  shade  from  conscience  borrow ; 
The  tyrant’s  crown  is  lined  with  flame, 
Life  never  paid  the  coward’s  shame : 

The  miser’s  lock  is  never  sure, 

The  traitor’s  home  is  never  pure ; 

While  seraphs  guard,  and  cherubs  tend 
The  good  man’s  life  and  brave  man’s  end: 
But  their  fondest  care 
Is  the  patriot’s  prison, 

16 


186 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


Ilymning  through  its  air — 

“ Freedom  hath  arisen, 
Oft  from  statesmen’s  strife, 
Oft  from  battle’s  flashes, 
Oft  from  hero’s  life, 

Oftenest  from  his  ashes !” 


THE  BURIAL.  * 

Why  rings  the  knell  of  the  funeral  bell  from  a hun- 
dred village  shrines  ? 

Through  broad  Fingall,  where  hasten  all  those  long 
and  ordered  lines  ? 

With  tear  and  sigh  they’re  passing  by, — the  matron 
and  the  maid — • 

Has  a hero  died — is  a nation’s  pride  in  that  cold  coffin 
laid? 

With  frown  and  curse,  behind  the  hearse,  dark  men  go 
tramping  on — 

Has  a tyrant  died,  that  they  cannot  hide  their  wrath 
till  the  rites  are  done  ? 

* Written  on  the  funeral  of  the  Rev.  P.  J.  Tyrrell,  P.P.  of  Lusk*, 

one  of  those  indicted  with  O’Connell  in  the  government  prosecutions 

of  1843.— Ed. 


THE  BURIAL. 


187 


THE  CHAUNT. 

“ Ululu!  ululu!  high  on  the  wind, 

44  There’s  a home  for  the  slave  where  no  fetters  can 
bind. 

“ Woe,  woe  to  his  slayers” — comes  wildly  along, 

With  the  trampling  of  feet  and  the  funeral  song. 

And  now  more  clear 
It  swells  on  the  ear ; 

Breathe  low,  and  listen,  ’tis  solemn  to  hear. 

44  Ululu!  ululu!  wail  for  the  dead. 

44  Green  grow  the  grass  of  Fingall  on  his  head ; 

44  And  spring-flowers  blossom,  ere  elsewhere  appearing, 
44  And  shamrocks  grow  thick  on  the  Martyr  for  Erin. 

44  Ululu ! ululu ! soft  fall  the  dew 

44  On  the  feet  and  the  head  of  the  martyred  and  true.” 

For  awhile  they  tread 
In  silence  dread — 

Then  muttering  and  moaning  go  the  crowd, 
Surging  and  swaying  like  mountain  cloud, 

And  again  the  wail  comes  fearfully  loud. 

THE  CHAUNT. 

44  Ululu ! ululu ! kind  was  his  heart ! 

44  Walk  slower,  walk  slower,  too  soon  we  shall  part- 
•4  The  faithful  and  pious,  the  Priest  of  the  Lord, 

44  His  pilgrimage  over,  he  has  his  reward. 


183 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


“ By  the  bed  of  the  sick,  lowly  kneeling, 

“ To  God  with  the  raised  cross  appealing — 

“ He  seems  still  to  kneel,  and  he  seems  still  to  pray, 
u And  the  sins  of  the  dying  seem  passing  away. 


In  the  prisoner’s  cell,  and  the  cabin  so  dreary, 
“ Our  constant  consoler,  he  never  grew  weary ; 
“ But  he’s  gone  to  his  rest, 
u And  he’s  now  with  the  blest, 

“ Where  tyrant  and  traitor  no  longer  molest — 
“ Ululu!  ululu!  wail  for  the  dead! 

“ Ululu  l ululu ! here  is  his  bed.” 


Short  was  the  ritual,  simple  the  prayer, 

Deep  was  the  silence  and  every  head  bare ; 

The  Priest  alone  standing,  they  knelt  all  around, 
Myriads  on  myriads,  like  rocks  on  the  ground. 
Kneeling  and  motionless — “ Dust  unto  dust.” 

“ He  died  as  becometh  the  faithful  and  just — 

“ Placing  in  God  his  reliance  ard  trust;” 

Kneeling  and  motionless — “ ashes  to  ashes” — 

Hollow  the  clay  on  the  coffin-lid  dashes  ; 

Kneeling  and  motionless,  wildly  they  pray, 

But  they  pray  in  their  souls,  for  no  gesture  have  they— 
Stern  and  standing — oh  ! look  on  them  now, 
like  trees  to  one  tempest  the  multitude  bow ; 
like  the  swell  of  the  ocean  is  rising  their  vow : 


THE  BURIAL. 


189 


THE  VOW. 

We  have  bent  and  borne,  though  we  saw  him  torn 
from  his  home  by  the  tyrant’s  crew — 

And  we  bent  and  bore,  when  he  came  once  more, 
though  suffering  had  pierced  him  through : 
And  now  he  is  laid  beyond  our  aid,  because  to  Ire* 
land  true — 

A martyred  man — the  tyrant’s  ban,  the  pious  patriot 
slew. 

“ And  shall  we  bear  and  bend  for  ever, 

“ And  shall  no  time  our  bondage  sever, 

“ And  shall  we  kneel,  but  battle  never, 

“ For  our  own  soil  ] 

“ And  shall  our  tyrants  safely  reign 
“ On  thrones  built  up  of  slaves  and  slain, 

> “ And  nought  to  us  and  ours  remain, 

“ But  chains  and  toil. 

“ No  ! round  this  grave  our  oath  we  plight, 

“ To  watch,  and  labour,  and  unite, 

“ Till  banded  be  the  nation’s  might — 

“ It’s  spirit  steeled, 

“ And  then  collecting  all  our  force, 

“ We’ll  cross  oppression  in  its  course, 

“ And  die — or  all  our  rights  enforce, 

“ On  battle  field.” 


16* 


190 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


Like  an  ebbing  sea  that  will  come  again, 
Slowly  retired  that  host  of  men ; 

Methinks  they’ll  keep  some  other  day 
The  oath  they  swore  on  the  martyr’s  clay. 


WE  MUST  NOT  FAIL. 


i. 

We  must  not  fail,  we  must  n.ot  fail, 
However  fraud  or  force  assail ; 

By  honour,  pride,  and  policy, 

By  Heaven  itself ! — we  must  be  free. 


ii. 

Time  had  already  thinned  our  chain, 

Time  would  have  dulled  our  sense  of  pain 
By  service  long,  and  suppliance  vile, 

We  might  have  won  our  owner’s  smile. 

in. 

We  spurned  the  thought,  our  prison  burst, 
And  dared  the  despot  to  the  worst ; 
Renewed  the  strife  of  centuries, 

And  flung  our  banner  to  the  breeze. 


WE  MUST  NOT  FAIL. 


191 


IV. 

We  called  the  ends  of  earth  to  view 
The  gallant  deeds  we  swore  to  do ; 

They  knew  us  wronged,  they  knew  us  brave, 
And,  all  we  asked,  they  freely  gave. 

v. 

We  took  the  starving  peasant’s  mite 
To  aid  in  winning  hack  his  right, 

We  took  the  priceless  trust  of  youth ; 

Their  freedom  must  redeem  our  truth. 


We  promised  loud,  and  boasted  high, 

“ To  break  our  country’s  chains,  or  die 
And,  should  we  quail,  that  country’s  name 
Will  be  the  synonyme  of  shame. 

VII. 

Earth  is  not  deep  enough  to  hide 
The  coward  slave  who  shrinks  aside ; 

Hell  is  not  hot  enough  to  scathe 
The  ruffian  wretch  who  breaks  his  faith. 

VIII. 

But — calm,  my  soul ! — we  promised  true 
Her  destined  work  our  land  shall  do ; 
Thought,  courage,  patience  will  prevail  1 . 
We  shall  not  fail — we  shall  not  fail ! 


192 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


O’CONNELL’S  STATUE. 

(LINES  TO  HOGAN.) 

Chisel  the  likeness  of  The  Chief, 

Not  in  gaiety,  nor  grief ; 

Change  not  by  your  art  to  stone, 

Ireland’s  laugh,  or  Ireland’s  moan. 

Dark  her  tale,  and  none  can  tell 
It’s  fearful  chronicle  so  well. 

Her  frame  is  bent — her  wounds  are  deep-* 
Who,  like  him,  her  woes  can  weep  ? 

He  can  be  gentle  as  a bride, 

While  none  can  rule  with  kinglier  pride. 
Calm  to  hear,  and  wise  to  prove, 

Yet  gay  as  lark  in  soaring  love. 

Well  it  were  posterity 

Should  have  some  image  of  his  glee ; 

That  easy  humour,  blossoming 
Like  the  thousand  flowers  of  spring ! 
Glorious  the  marble  which  could  show 
His  bursting  sympathy  for  woe, 

Could  catch  the  pathos,  flowing  wild, 

Like  mother’s  milk  to  craving  child. 

And  oh ! how  princely  were  the  art 
Could  mould  his  mien,  or  tell  his  heart 
When  sitting  sole  on  Tara’s  hill, 

While  hung  a million  on  his  will ! 


o’connell’s  statue. 


193 


Yet,  not  in  gaiety,  nor  grief, 

Chisel  the  image  of  our  Chief; 

Nor  even  in  that  haughty  hour 
When  a nation  owned  his  power. 

But  would  you  by  your  art  unroll 
His  own,  and  Ireland’s  secret  soul. 
And  give  to  other  times  to  scan 
The  greatest  greatness  of  the  man  ? 
Fierce  defiance  let  him  be 
Hurling  at  our  enemy — 

From  a base  as  fair  and  sure 
As  our  love  is  true  and  pure, 

Let  his  statue  rise  as  tali 
And  firm  as  a castle  wall ; 

On  his  broad  brow  let  there  be 
A type  of  Ireland’s  history ; 

Pious,  generous,  deep,  and  warm, 
Strong  and  changeful  as  a storm ; 
Let  whole  centuries  of  wrong 
Upon  his  recollection  throng — 
Strongbow’s  force,  and  Henry’s  wile, 
Tudor’s  wrath,  and  Stuart’s  guile, 
And  iron  Strafford’s  tiger  jaws, 

And  brutal  Brunswick’s  penal  laws ; 
Not  forgetting  Saxon  faith, 

Not  forgetting  Norman  scaith, 

Not  forgetting  William’s  word, 

Not  forgetting  Cromwell’s  sword. 

Let  the  Union’s  fetter  vile — 

17 


194 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


The  shame  and  ruin  of  our  isle — 

Let  the  blood  of  ’Ninety-Eight 
And  our  present  blighting  fate— 

Let  the  poor  mechanic’s  lot, 

And  the  peasant’s  ruined  cot, 

Plundered  wealth  and  glory  flown, 

Ancient  honors  overthrown — 

Let  trampled  altar,  rifled  urn, 

Knit  his  look  to  purpose  stern. 

Mould  all  this  into  one  thought, 

Like  wizard  cloud  with  thunder  fraught; 

Still  let  our  glories  through  it  gleam, 

Like  fair  flowers  through  a flooded  stream, 

Or  like  a flashing  wave  at  night, 

Bright, — ’mid  the  solemn  darkness  bright. 

Let  the  memory  of  old  days 

Shine  through  the  statesman’s  anxious  face— 

Dathi’s  power,  and  Brian’s  fame, 

And  headlong  Sarsfield’s  sword  of  flame, 

And  the  spirit  of  Red  Hugh, 

And  the  pride  of  Eighty-two. 

And  the  victories  he  won, 

And  the  hope  that  leads  him  on ! 

Let  whole  armies  seem  to  fly 
From  his  threatening  hand  and  eye ; 

Be  the  strength  of  all  the  land 
Lil*e  a falchion  in  his  hand, 

And  be  his  gesture  sternly  grand. 

A braggart  tyrant  swore  to  smite 


THE  GREEN  ABOVE  THE  RED. 


195 


A people  struggling  for  their  rights 
O’Connell  dared  him  to  the  field, 
Content  to  die,  but  never  yield. 
Fancy  such  a soul  as  his, 

In  a moment  such  as  this, 

Like  cataract,  or  foaming  tide, 

Or  army  charging  in  its  pride. 

Thus  he  spoke,  and  thus  he  stood, 
Proffering  in  our  cause  his  blood. 
Thus  his  country  loves  him  best— 
To  image  this  is  your  behest. 

Chisel  thus,  and  thus  alone, 

If  to  man  you’d  change  the  stone. 


THE  GREEN  ABOVE  THE  RED  * 

Air — Irish  Molly  O ! 

i. 

Full  often  when  our  fathers  saw  the  Red  above  the 
Green, 

They  rose  in  rude  but  fierce  array,  with  sabre,  pike, 
and  scian , 

• This  and  the  three  following  pieces  are  properly  street  ballads 
The  reader  must  not  expect  depth  or  finish  in  verses  of  this  descrip, 
tion,  written  for  a temporary  purpose. — Ed. 


196 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


And  over  many  a noble  town,  and  many  a field  of  dead, 
They  proudly  set  the  Irish  Green  above  the  English 
Red. 


u. 

But  in  the  end,  throughout  the  land,  the  shameful  sight 
was  seen — 

The  English  Red  in  triumph  high  above  the  Irish 
Green ; 

But  well  they  died  in  breach  and  field,  who,  as  their 
spirits  fled, 

Still  saw  the  Green  maintain  its  place  above  the 
English  Red. 


hi. 

And  they  who  saw,  in  after  times,  the  Red  above  the 
Green, 

Were  withered  as  the  grass  that  dies  beneath  a forest 
screen ; 

Yet  often  by  this  healthy  hope  their  sinking  hearts  were 
fed, 

That,  in  some  day  to  come,  the  Green  should  flutter  o’er 
the  Red. 


IV. 

Sure  ’twas  for  this  Lord  Edward  died,  and  Wolfe  Tone 
sunk  serene — 

Because  they  could  not  bear  to  leave  the  Red  above  the 
Green ; 


THE  GREEN  ABOVE  THE  RED. 


197 


And  ’twas  for  this  that  Owen  fought,  and  Sarsfield 
nobly  bled — 

Because  their  eyes  were  hot  to  see  the  Green  above  the 
Red. 


So,  when  the  strife  began  again,  our  darling  Irish 
Green 

Was  down  upon  the  earth,  while  high  the  English  Red 
was  seen ; 

Yet  still  we  hold  our  fearless  course,  for  something  in 
us  said, 

“ Before  the  strife  is  o’er  you’ll  see  the  Green  above 
the  Red.” 

VI. 

And  ’tis  for  this  we  think  aud  toil,  and  knowledge  strive 
to  glean, 

That  we  may  pull  the  English  Red  below  the  Irish 
Green, 

And  leave  our  sons  sweet  liberty,  and  smiling  plenty 
spread 

Above  the  land  once  dark  with  blood — the  Green  above 
the  Red ! 


VII. 

The  jealous  English  tyrant  now  has  banned  the  Irish 
Green, 

And  forced  us  to  conceal  it  like  a something  foul  and 
mean; 


17* 


198 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


But  yet,  by  Heavens!  he’ll  sooner  raise  his  victims 
from  the  dead 

Than  force  our  hearts  to  leave  the  Green,  and  cotton  to 
the  Red ! 


VIII. 

We’ll  trust  ourselves,  for  God  is  good,  and  blesses  those 
who  lean 

On  their  brave  hearts,  and  not  upon  an  earthly  king  or 
queen; 

And,  freely  as  we  lift  our  hands,  we  vow  our  blood  to 
shed 

Once  and  for  ever  more  to  raise  the  Green  above  the 
Red! 


THE  VOW  OF  TIPPERARY. 

Air — Tipperary. 

i. 

From  Carrick  streets  to  Shannon  shore, 
From  Slievenamon  to  Ballindeary, 
From  Longford  Pass  to  Gaillte  Mor, 
Come  hear  The  Vow  of  Tipperary. 


A PLEA  FOR  THE  BOG-TROTTERS. 


198 


ii. 

Too  long  we  fought  for  Britain’s  cause, 
And  of  our  blood  were  never  chary ; 
She  paid  us  back  with  tyrant  laws, 

And  thinned  The  Homes  of  Tipperary. 

hi. 

Too  long,  with  rash  and  single  arm, 

The  peasant  strove  to  guard  his  eyrie, 
Till  Irish  blood  bedewed  each  farm, 

And  Ireland  wept  for  Tipperary. 


IV. 

But  never  more  we’ll  lift  a hand — 

We  swear  by  God  and  Virgin  Mary  ! 
Except  in  war  for  Native  Land, 

And  thaCs  The  Vow  of  Tipperary ! 


A PLEA  FOR  THE  BOG-TROTTERS. 


i. 

“ Base  Bog-trotters,”  says  the  Times , 

“ Brown  with  mud,  and  black  with  crimes, 
Turf  and  lumpers  dig  betimes 

(We  grant  you  need  ’em), 

But  never  lift  your  heads  sublime, 

Nor  talk  of  Freedom.” 


200 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS 


II. 

Yet,  Bog-trotters,  sirs,  be  sure, 

Are  strong  to  do,  and  to  endure, 

Men  whose  blows  are  hard  to  cure— 
Brigands ! what’s  in  ye, 

That  the  fierce  man  of  the  moor 
Can’t  stand  again  ye  ? 

in. 

The  common  drains  in  Mushra  moss 
Are  wider  than  a castle  fosse, 
Connaught  swamps  are  hard  to  cross, 
And  histories  boast 
That  Allen’s  Bog  has  caused  the  loss 
Of  many  a host. 

iv. 

Oh  ! were  you  in  an  Irish  bog, 

Full  of  pikes,  and  scarce  of  prog, 

You’d  wish  your  Times- ship  was  incog. 
Or  far  away, 

Though  Saxons,  thick  as  London  fog, 
Around  you  lay. 


A SECOND  PLEA  FOR  THE  BOG-TROTTERS.  201 


A SECOND  PLEA  FOR  THE  BOG-TROTTERS 


i. 

The  Mail  says,  that  Hanover’s  King 
Twenty  Thousand  men  will  bring, 

And  make  the  “ base  bog-trotters  ” sing 
A pillileu ; 

And  that  O’Connell  high  shall  swing, 
And  others  too. 


ii. 

There  is  a tale  of  Athens  told, 

Worth  at  least  its  weight  in  gold 
To  fellows  of  King  Ernest’s  mould 
(The  royal  rover), 

Who  think  men  may  be  bought  and  sold, 
Or  ridden  over. 

hi. 

Darius  (an  imperial  wretch, 

A Persian  Ernest,  or  Jack  Ketch,) 

Bid  his  knaves  from  Athens  fetch 
“ Earth  and  water,” 

Or  else  the  heralds’  necks  he’d  stretch, 
And  Athens  slaughter. 


IV. 

The  Athenians  threw  them  in  a well, 
And  left  them  there  to  help  themsel’, 


202 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


And  when  his  armies  came,  pell-mell, 
They  tore  his  banners, 

And  sent  his  slaves  in  shoals  to  hell, 
To  mend  their  manners. 


v. 

Let  those  who  bring  and  those  who  send 
Hanoverians,  comprehend 
Persian-like  may  be  their  end,' 

And  the  bog-trotter  ” 

May  drown  their  knaves,  their  banners  rend, 
Their  armies  slaughter. 


A SCENE  IN  THE  SOUTH 

i. 

1 was  walking  along  in  a pleasant  place, 

In  the  county  Tipperary ; 

The  scene  smiled  as  happy  as  the  holy  face 
Of  the  Blessed  Virgin  Mary ; 

And  the  trees  were  proud,  and  the  sward  was  green, 
And  the  birds  sang  loud  in  the  leafy  scene. 

ii. 

Yet  somehow  I felt  strange,  and  soon  I felt  sad, 
And  then  I felt  very  lonely ; 


A SCENE  IN  THE  SOUTH. 


203 


I pondered  in  vain  why  I was  not  glad, 

In  a place  meant  for  pleasure  only : 

For  I thought  that  grief  had  never  been  there, 
And  that  sin  would  as  lief  to  heaven  repair. 


in. 

And  a train  of  spirits  seemed  passing  me  by, 
The  air  grew  as  heavy  as  lead; 

I looked  for  a cabin,  yet  none  could  I spy 
In  the  pastures  about  me  spread ; 

Yet  each  field  seemed  made  for  a peasant’s  cot, 
And  1 felt  dismayed  when  I saw  them  not. 


iv. 

As  I stayed  on  the  field,  I saw — Oh,  my  God ! 

The  marks  where  a cabin  had  been : 

Through  the  midst  of  the  fields,  some  feet  of  the  sod 
Were  coarser  and  far  less  green, 

And  three  or  four  trees  in  the  centre  stood, 

But  they  seemed  to  freeze  in  their  solitude. 


Surely  there  was  the  road  that  led  to  the  cot, 

For  it  ends  just  beneath  the  trees, 

And  the  trees  like  mourners  are  watching  the  spot, 
And  cronauning  with  the  breeze  ; 

And  their  stems  are  bare  with  children’s  play, 

' But  the  children — where,  oh ! where  are  they  1 


204 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


VI. 

An  old  man  unnoticed  had  come  to  my  side, 

His  hand  in  my  arm  linking — 

A reverend  man,  without  haste  or  pride — 

And  he  said : — “ I know  what  you’re  thinking ; 

M A cabin  stood  once  underneath  the  trees, 

■*  Full  of  kindly  ones — but  alas ! for  these ! 

VII. 

“ A loving  old  couple,  and  tho’  somewhat  poor, 

“ Their  children  had  leisure  to  play ; 

44  And  the  piper,  and  stranger,  and  beggar  were  sura 
“ To  bless  them  in  going  awTay ; 

But  the  typhus  came,  and  the  agent  too — 

44  Ah ! need  I name  the  worst  of  the  two  ? 

VIII. 

44  Their  cot  was  unroofed,  yet  they  strove  to  hide 
“ In  its  walls  till  the  fever  wTas  passed ; 

44  Their  crime  was  found  out,  and  the  cold  ditch  side 
44  Was  their  hospital  at  last : 

“ Slowly  they  went  to  poorhouse  and  grave, 

But  the  Lord  they  bent  to,  their  souls  will  save. 

IX. 

“ And  thro’  many  a field  you  passed,  and  will  pass, 

44  In  this  lordling’s  4 cleared’  demesne, 

44  Where  households  as  happy  were  once — but,  alas 
“They  too  are  scattered  or  slain.” 

Then  he  pressed  my  hand,  and  he  went  away ; 

I could  not  stand,  so  I knelt  to  prav  • 


WILLIAM  TELL. 


205 


X. 

“ God  of  justice !”  I sighed,  “ send  your  spirit  down 
“ On  these  lords  so  cruel  and  proud, 

“ And  soften  their  hearts  and  relax  their  frown, 

“ Or  else?  I cried  aloud — 

“ Vouchsafe  thy  strength  to  the  peasant’s  hand 
“ To  drive  them  at  length  from  off  the  land  !”* 


WILLIAM  TELL  AND  THE  GENIUS  OF 
SWITZERLAND.! 

i. 

Tell. — You  have  no  fears, 

My  native  land ! 

Then  dry  your  tears, 

And  draw  your  brand. 

* The  scene  is  a mere  actual  landscape  which  I saw. — Author’s 
Note. 

t Just  before  the  insurrection  which  expelled  the  Austrians,  Tell 
and  some  of  his  brother  conspirators  spent  a night  on  the  shore  of  the 
Underwalde  Lake,  consulting  for  liberty  ; and  while  they  were  thus 
engaged,  the  genius  of  Switzerland  appeared  to  them,  and  she  was 
armed,  but  weeping.  “ Why  weep  you,  mother?”  said  Tell ; and  she 
answered,  “ I see  dead  patriots,  and  hear  their  orphans  wailing — 
and  he  said  again  to  her,  “ The  tyrant  kills  us  with  his  prisons  and 
taxes,  and  poisons  our  air  with  his  presence;  war-death  is  better 
and  she  said,  ‘4  it  is  better” — and  the  cloud  passed  irom  her  brow,  and 
she  gave  him  a spear  and  bade  him  conquer. — Author’s  Note. 

18 


206 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


A million  made  a vow 

To  free  you. — Wherefore,  now, 

Tears  again,  my  native  land  ? 

n. 

Genius. — I weep  not  from  doubt, 

I weep  not  for  dread ; 

There’s  strength  in  your  shout, 

And  trust  in  your  tread. 

I weep,  for  I look  for  the  coming  dead, 

Who  for  Liberty’s  cause  shall  die ; 

And  I hear  a wail  from  the  widow’s  bed 
Come  mixed  with  our  triumph-cry. 
Though  dire  my  woes,  yet  how  can  I 
Be  calm  when  1 know  such  suffering’s  nigh  * 

HI. 

Tell. — Death  comes  to  all, 

My  native  land ! 

Weep  not  their  fall — 

A glorious  band ! 

Famine  and  slavery 
Slaughter  more  cruelly 
Than  Battle’s  blood-covered  hand ! 

IV. 

Genius. — Yes,  and  all  glory 

Shall  honour  their  grave, 

With  shrine,  song,  and  story. 

Denied  to  the  slave. 


THE  EXILE. 


207 


Thus  pride  shall  so  mingle  with  sorrow, 
Their  wives  half  their  weeping  will  stay ; 
And  their  sons  long  to  tempt  on  the  morrow 
The  death  they  encounter  to-day. 

Then  away,  sons,  to  battle  away ! 

Draw  the  sword,  lift  the  flag,  and  away ! 

* 

THE  EXILE. 

(paraphrased  from  the  french.) 


I’ve  passed  through  the  nations  unheeded,  unknown , 
Though  all  looked  upon  me,  none  called  me  their  own. 
I shared  not  their  laughter — they  cared  not  my  moan — 
For,  ah ! the  poor  exile  is  always  alone. 

ii. 

At  eve,  when  the  smoke  from  some  cottage  uprose, 
How  happy  I’ve  thought,  at  the  weary  day’s  close, 
With  his  dearest  around,  must  the  peasant  repose ; 

But,  ah ! the  poor  exile  is  always  alone. 

hi. 

Where  hasten  those  clouds  ? to  the  land  or  the  sea-* 
Driven  on  by  the  tempest,  poor  exiles,  like  me? 

What  matter  to  either  where  either  shall  flee? 

For,  ah!  the  poor  oxile  is  always  alone. 


208 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


IV. 

Those  trees  they  are  beauteous — those  flowers  they  aro 
fair ; 

But  no  trees  and  no  flowers  of  my  country  are  there. 
They  speak  not  unto  me — they  heed  not  my  care; 
For,  ah ! the  poor  exile  is  always  alone. 


v. 

That  brook  murmurs  softly  its  way  through  the  plain 
But  the  brooks  of  my  childhood  had  not  the  same  strain 
It  reminds  me  of  nothing — it  murmurs  in  vain ; 

For,  ah ! the  poor  exile  is  always  alone. 

VI. 

Sweet  are  those  songs,  but  their  sweetness  or  sorrow 
No  charm  from  the  songs  of  my  infancy  borrow, 

I hear  them  to-day  and  forget  them  to-morrow ; 

For,  ah ! the  poor  exile  is  always  alone. 

VII. 

They’ve  asked  me,  “ Why  weep  you  V9  I’ve  told  them 
my  woe — 

They  listed  my  words,  as  the  rocks  feel  the  snow. 

No  sympathy  bound  us  ; how  could  their  tears  flow  ? 
For,  sure  the  poor  exile  is  always  alone. 

VIII. 

When  soft  on  their  chosen  the  young  maidens  smile, 
Like  the  dawn  of  the  morn  on  Erin’s  dear  isle, 

With  no  love-smile  to  cheer  me,  I look  on  the  while ; 
For,  ah ! the  poor  exile  is  always  alone. 


MY  HOME. 


209 


IX. 

Like  boughs  round  the  tree  are  those  babes  round  their 
mother, 

And  these  friends  like  its  roots,  clasp  and  grow  to  each 
other ; 

Hut,  none  call  me  child,  and  none  call  me  brother; 

For,  ah ! the  poor  exile  is  ever  alone. 


x. 

Wives  never  clasp,  and  friends  never  smile, 
Mothers  ne’er  fondle,  nor  maidens  beguile  ; 

And  happiness  dwells  not,  except  in  our  isle, — 
And  so  the  poor  exile  is  always  alone. 

XI. 

Poor  exile,  cease  grieving,  for  all  are  like  you— 
Weeping  the  banished,  the  lovely,  and  true. 

Our  country  is  Heaven — ’twill  welcome  you,  too; 
And  cherish  the  exile,  no  longer  alone  l 


MY  HOME. 

A DREAM. 

1 have  dreamt  of  a home — a happy  home— 
The  ficklest  from  it  would  not  care  to  roam ; 
’Twas  a cottage  home  on  native  ground, 
Where  all  things  glorious  clustered  round- 
18* 


210 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


For  highland  glen  and  lowland  plain 
Met  within  that  small  demesne. 

In  sight  is  a tarn,  with  cliffs  of  fear, 

Where  the  eagle  defies  the  mountaineer, 

4nd  the  cataract  leaps  in  mad  career, 

A.nd  through  oak  and  holly  roam  the  deer. 

On  its  brink  is  a ruined  castle,  stern, — 

The  mountains  are  crowned  with  rath  and  camy 
Robed  with  heather,  and  bossed  with  stone, 

And  belted  with  a pine  wood  lone. 

Thro’  that  mighty  gap  in  the  mountain  chain, 

Oft,  like  rivers  after  rain, 

Poured  our  clans  on  the  conquered  plain. 

And  there,  upon  their  harassed  rear, 

Oft  pressed  the  Norman’s  bloody  spear ; 

Men  call  it  “ the  pass  of  the  leaping  deer.” 

Wild  is  the  region,  yet  gentle  the  spot — 

As  you  look  on  the  roses,  the  rocks  are  forgot ; 

For  garden  gay,  and  primrose  lawn 

Peep  through  the  rocks,  as  thro’  night  comes  dawn* 

And  see,  by  that  burn  the  children  play ; 

In  that  valley  the  village  maidens  stray, 

Listing  the  thrush  and  the  robin’s  lay, 

Listing  the  burn  sigh  back  to  the  breeze, 

And  hoping — guess  whom  ? ’mong  the  thorn  trees. 
Not  yet,  dear  girls — on  the  uplands  green 
Shepherds  and  flocks  may  still  be  seen. 


MY  HOME. 


211 


Freemen’s  toils,  with  fruit  and  grain, 

The  valley  fill,  and  clothe  the  plain. 

There’s  the  health  which  labour  yields— 

Labour  tilling  its  own  fields. 

Freed  at  length  from  stranger  lord — 

From  his  frown,  or  his  reward — • 

Each  the  owner  of  his  land, 

Plenty  springs  beneath  his  hand. 

Meet  these  men  on  land  or  sea — • 

Meet  them  in  council,  war,  or  glee  ; 

Voice,  glance,  and  mien,  bespeak  them  free. 

W elcome  greets  you  at  their  hearth ; 

Reverent  they  to  age  and  worth ; 

Yet  prone  to  jest  and  full  of  mirth. 

Fond  of  song,  and  dance,  and  crowd  *— 

Of  harp,  and  pipe,  and  laughter  loud ; 

Their  lay  of  love  is  low  and  bland, 

Their  wail  for  death  is  wild  and  grand ; 

Awful  and  lovely  their  song  of  flame, 

When  they  clash  the  chords  in  their  country’s  nama 

They  seek  no  courts,  and  own  no  sway, 

Save  the  counsels  of  their  elders  grey ; 

For  holy  love,  and  homely  faith, 

Rule  their  hearts  in  life  and  death. 

Yet  their  rifles  would  flash,  and  their  sabres  smite, 
And  their  pike-staffs  redden  in  the  fight, 

And  young  and  old  be  swept  away, 

Ere  the  stranger  in  their  land  should  sway. 


Correctly  emit , the  Irish  name  for  the  violin. — Author’s  Not* 


212 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


But  the  setting  sun,  ere  he  sink  in  the  sea, 

Flushes  and  flashes  o’er  crag  and  tree, 

Kisses  the  clouds  with  crimson  sheen, 

And  sheets  with  gold  the  ocean’s  green. 

Where  the  stately  frigate  lies  in  the  bay, 

The  friendly  fleet  of  the  Frenchman  lay. 

Yonder  creek,  and  yonder  shore 
Echoed  then  the  battle’s  roar ; 

Where,  on  slope  after  slope,  the  west  sun  shines, 

After  the  fight  lay  our  conquering  lines. 

The  triumph,  though  great,  had  cost  us  dear ; 

And  the  wounded  and  dead  were  lying  near — 

When  the  setting  sun  on  our  bivouac  proud, 

Sudden  burst  through  a riven  cloud, 

An  answering  shout  broke  from  our  men — 

Wounds  and  toils  were  forgotten  then, 

And  dying  men  were  heard  to  pray 

The  light  would  last  till  they  passed  away — 

They  wished  to  die  on  our  triumph  day. 

We  honoured  the  omen,  and  thought  on  times  gone, 
And  from  chief  to  chief  the  word  was  passed  on. 

The  “ harp  on  the  green”  our  land-flag  should  be, 

And  the  sun  through  clouds  bursting,  our  flag  at  sea, 
The  green  borne  harp  o’er  yon  battery  gleams, 

From  the  frigate’s  topgallant  the  “ sun-burst”  streama 

In  that  far-off  isle  a sainted  sage 
Built  a lowly  hermitage, 

Where  ages  gone  made  pilgrimage. 

Over  his  grave,  with  what  weird  delight, 


MY  HOME. 


213 


The  grey  trees  swim  in  the  flooding  light ; 

How  a halo  clasps  their  solemn  head, 

Like  heaven’s  breath  on  the  rising  dead. 

Longing  and  languid  as  prisoned  bird. 

With  a powerless  dream  my  heart  is  stirred, 

And  I pant  to  pierce  beyond  the  tomb, 

And  see  the  light,  or  share  the  gloom. 

But  vainly  for  such  power  we  pray, 

God  wills — enough — let  man  obey. 

Two  thousand  years,  ’mid  sun  and  storm, 

That  tall  tower  has  lifted  its  mystic  form. 

The  yew-tree  shadowing  the  aisle, 

’Twixt  airy  arch  and  mouldering  pile, 

And  nigh  the  hamlet  that  chapel  fair 

Shew  religion  has  dwelt,  and  is  dwelling  there. 

While  the  Druid’s  crom-leac  up  the  vale 
Tells  how  rites  may  change,  and  creeds  may  fail. 
Creeds  may  perish,  and  rites  may  fall, 

But  that  hamlet  worships  the  God  of  all. 

In  the  land  of  the  pious,  free,  and  brave, 

Was  the  happy  home  that  sweet  dream  gavo. 

But  the  mirth,  and  beauty,  and  love  that  dwell 
Within  that  home — I may  not  tell. 


214 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS 


FANNY  POWER. 


i. 

The  lady’s  son  rode  by  the  mill ; 

The  trees  were  murmuring  on  the  hill, 
But  in  the  valley  they  were  still, 

And  seemed  with  heat  to  cower : 
They  said  that  he  should  be  a priest, 
For  so  had  vowed  his  sire,  deceased ; 
They  should  have  told  him  too,  at  least, 
To  fly  from  Fanny  Power. 


n. 

The  lonely  student  felt  his  breast 
Was  like  an  empty  linnet’s  nest, 

Divinely  moulded  to  be  blest, 

Yet  pining  hour  by  hour : 

For,  see,  amid  the  orchard  trees, 

Her  green  gown  kirtled  to  her  knees, 
Adown  the  brake,  like  whispering  breeze^ 
Went  lightsome  Fanny  Power. 


irr. 

Her  eyes  cast  down  a mellow  light 
Upon  her  neck  of  glancing  white, 
like  starshine  on  a snowy  night, 
Or  moonshine  on  a tower. 


FANNY  POWER. 


215 


She  sang — he  thought  her  songs  were  hymns— 
An  angel’s  grace  was  in  her  limbs  ; 

The  swan  that  on  Lough  Erne  swims 
Is  rude  to  Fanny  Power. 

IV. 

Returned,  he  thought  the  convent  dull, 

At  best  a heavy  heartless  lull — 

No  hopes  to  cheer,  no  flowers  to  cull, 

No  sunshine  and  no  shower. 

The  Abbot  sent  him  to  his  cell, 

And  spoke  of  penance  and  of  hell ; 

But  nothing  in  his  heart  to  quell 
The  love  of  Fanny  Power. 

v. 

He  dreamed  of  her  the  livelong  day 
At  evening,  when  ho  tried  to  pray, 

Instead  of  other  Saints,  he’d  say, 

O holy — Fanny  Power ! 

How  happier  seemed  an  exile’s  lot 
Than  living  there,  unlov’d,  forgot ; 

And,  oh,  best  joy ! to  share  his  cot 
His  own  dear  Fanny  Power. 


VI. 

’Tis  vain  to  strive  with  Passion’s  might— 
He  left  the  convent  walls  one  night, 

And  she  was  won  to  join  his  flight 
Before  he  wooed  an  hour ; 


216 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS, 


So,  flying  to  a freer  land, 

He  broke  his  vow  at  Love’s  command, 
And  placed  a ring  upon  the  hand 
Of  happy  Fanny  Power. 


MARIE  NANGLE;  OR,  THE  SEVEN  SISTERS 
OF  NAVAN. 

A FRAGMENT. 

I. 

Oh  ! there  were  sisters,  sisters  seven, 

As  bright  as  any  stars  in  heaven  ; 

Save  one,  they  all  were  snowy  white, 

And  she  like  oriental  night : 

Yet  she  was  like  unto  the  rest, 

Had  all  their  softness  in  her  breast, 

Their  lights  and  shadows  in  her  face, 

And  in  her  figure  all  their  grace ; 

The  brightest  she  of  all  the  seven, 

Yet  all  were  bright,  as  stars  in  heaven. 


ii. 

They  had  true  lovers,  every  one, 

Except  the  fairest — she  had  none ; 

Or  rather  say  that  she  returned 
Their  love  to  none  who  for  her  burned ; 


MARIE  NANGLE. 


217 


For  Marie’s  timid,  Marie’s  mild, 

And  on  her  spirit  undefiled 

St.  Brigid’s*  nuns  their  thoughts  have  bent ; 

She  flies  her  sister’s  merriment. 

They  say  they’ll  marry,  every  one, 

But  Marie  says  she’ll  be  a Nun. 

HI. 

“ Oh ! wait  a while,”  her  father  said, 

“ Sweet  Marie,  wait  till  I am  dead.” 

The  Nuns,  for  this,  more  firmly  sought 
To  wean  her  from  each  earthly  thought. 

Oh ! you  were  made  for  God,  not  man,— 
’Twas  thus  their  pious  plea  began  ; 

For  much  these  pale  recluses  feared, 

As  her  gay  sisters’  nuptials  neared. 

“ Oh  ! wait  awhile,”  the  Baron  said, 

“ Sweet  Marie,  wait  till  they  are  wed.” 

IV. 

A novice  now,  sweet  Marie  dwells 
Within  dark  Odder’s  sacred  cells ; 

Yet  on  her  sisters’  wedding  day 
She  joins  the  chivalrous  array. 

The  brides  were  sweeter  than  their  flowers, 
The  bridegrooms  came  from  haughty  towers. 


Of  Odder, — a nunnery  dedicated  to  St.  Bride  or  Brigid  in  the 
county  Meath,  parish  of  Skreen,  in  the  twelfth  century. 

19 


218 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


For  Nangle’s*  daughters  are  beneath 
No  lordly  hand  in  lordly  Meath. 

The  novice  heart  of  Marie  swells, 

“ Oh,  dark,”  she  sighs,  “ are  Odder’s  cells !” 


v. 

Yet  vainly  on  that  wedding  day 
Her  sisters  and  their  gay  grooms  pray — 
She  grieves  to  part  with  those  so  dear, 
But  she  is  filled  with  pious  fear ; 

While  Tuite  and  Tyrrell  urged  in  vain, 
Her  tears  fell  down  like  Munster  rain — 
Malone  and  Bellew,  Taafie  and  Deasef — 
“ Oh,  cease,”  she  says,  “ in  pity  cease, 

Or  I must  leave  your  wedding  gay, 

In  Odder’s  walls  to  fast  and  pray.” 


VI. 

The  marriage  rites  are  bravely  done  ; 
But  what  ails  her,  the  novice  Nun  ? 

Oh ! never  had  she  seen  an  eye 
Look  into  hers  so  tenderly. 

“ Methinks  that  deep  and  mellow  voice 
Would  make  the  Abbess’  self  rejoice ; 


• The  Nangles  were  Barons  of  the  Navan,  and  figure  much  in  th* 
history  of  the  Pale. 

f ’Tis  clear  the  Nangles  knew  their  rank,  for  these  names  were 
among  the  best  in  Meath. 


MY  GRAVE. 


219 


He’s  sure  the  Saint  I dreamt  upon — 
Not  Barnewell  of  Trimleston. 

In  Holy  Land  his  spurs  he  won — • 
What  aileth  me,  a novice  Nun?” 

* * * * 


[It  is  but  a fragment  of  a Ballad,  which  some  of  Davis’s  friends  ax» 
sure  was  completed.  No  more,  however,  than  the  above  was  ever 
printed.] 


MY  GRAVE. 

Shall  they  bury  me  in  the  deep, 

Where  wind-forgetting  waters  sleep  ? 

Shall  they  dig  a grave  for  me, 

Under  the  green-wood  tree  ? 

Or  on  the  wild  heath, 

Where  the  wilder  breath 
Of  the  storm  doth  blow  ? 

Oh,  no ! oh,  no  ! 

Shall  they  bury  me  in  the  Palace  Tombs, 

Or  under  the  shade  of  Cathedral  domes  ? 

Sweet  ’twere  to  lie  on  Italy’s  shore  ; 

Yet  not  there — nor  in  Greece,  though  I love  it  more. 
In  the  wolf  or  the  vulture  my  grave  shall  I find  ? 
Shall  my  ashes  career  on  the  world-seeing  wind  ? 


220 


MISCELLANEOUS  POEMS. 


Shall  they  fling  my  corpse  in  the  battle  mound, 
Where  coflinless  thousands  lie  under  the  ground? 
Just  as  they  fall  they  are  buried  so — 

Oh,  no  ! oh,  no ! 

No  ! on  an  Irish  green  hill-side, 

On  an  opening  lawn — but  not  too  wide ; 

For  I love  the  drip  of  the  wetted  trees — 

I love  not  the  gales,  but  a gentle  breeze, 

To  freshen  the  turf — put  no  tombstone  there, 

But  green  sods  decked  with  daisies  fair ; 

Nor  sods  too  deep,  but  so  that  the  dew, 

The  matted  grass-roots  may  trickle  through. 

Be  fny  epitaph  writ  on  my  country’s  mind, 

44  He  served  his  country,  and  loved  his  kind." 

Oh ! ’twere  merry  unto  the  grave  to  go, 

If  one  were  sure  to  be  buried  so. 


APPENDIX 


I. 

I>iep  sunk  in  that  bed  is  the  sword  of  Monroe , 

Since , twixt  it  and  Donagh ,*  he  met  Owen  Roe. 

Poems,  p;  ge  34. 

The  Blackwater  in  Ulster  is  especially  remarkable  as  the  scene  o. 
the  two  most  memorable  victories  obtained  by  the  Irish  over  the 
English  power  for  several  centuries  past.  The  particulars  of  these 
battles  are  so  little  known,  that  it  is  hoped  the  following  accounts  of 
them,  taken  from  the  best  accessible  sources,  will  be  acceptable  to  the 
reader.  The  first  is  from  the  pen  of  Mr.  Davis. 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BENBURB, 

(5th  June,  1646.) 

The  battle  of  Benburb  was  fought  upon  the  slopes  of  ground,  now 
called  the  Thistle  Hill,  from  being  the  property  of  the  Thistles,  a 
family  of  Scotch  farmers,  now  represented  by  a fine  old  man  of  over 
eighty  years.  This  ground  is  two  and  a quarter  miles  in  a right  line, 
or  three  by  the  road,  from  the  Church  of  Benburb,  and  about  six 
miles  below  Caledon,  in  the  county  Tyrone  ; in  the  angle  between 
the  Blackwater  and  the  Oonagh,  on  the  Benburb  side  of  the  latter, 


* So  this  line  runs,  as  originally  published,  and  likewise  in  the  text 
of  the  present  edition.  But  I have  a strong  suspicion  that  the  author 
wrote  it, — ‘‘Since  ’twixt  it  and  Oonagh ,”  &c.,  meaning  tie  river 
Oonagh.  Vide  description  of  the  battle,  especially  the  first  paragraph. 
I would  not,  however,  alter  the  text,  without  some  search  after  th« 
original  MS.  ; orr,  in  default  of  that,  a critical  examination  of  the  to 
pography  of  a district,  in  the  description  of  which  so  many  errors  har 
been  committed. — Ed. 


222 


APPENDIX, 


and  close  to  Battleford  Bridge.  We  are  th&s  particular  in  marking 
the  exact  place,  because  of  the  blunders  of  many  writers  on  it. 

Major  General  Robert  Monro  landed  with  several  thousand  Scots  at 
C&rrickfergus,  in  the  middle  of  April,  1642,  and  on  the  28th  and  29th 
was  joined  by  Lord  Conway  and  Colonel  Chichester,  <fcc.,  with  1800 
foot,  five  troops  of  horse,  and  two  of  dragoons.  Early  in  May,  a junc- 
tion was  effected  between  Monro  and  Titchborne,  and  an  army  of 
12,000  foot,  and  between  1,000  and  2,000  horse,  was  made  up.  Yet, 
with  this  vast  force,  Monro  achieved  nothing  but  plunder,  unless  the 
treacherous  seizure  of  Lord  Antrim  be  an  exception.  Thus  was  the 
spring  of  1642  wasted.  Yet,  so  overwhelming  was  Monro’s  force, that 
the  Irish  Chiefs  were  thinking  of  giving  up  the  war,  when,  on  the 
13th  July,  Owen  Roe  Mac-Art  O’Neill  landed  at  Doe  Castle, 
county  Donegal,  and  received  the  command. 

Owen  Roe  was  born  in  Ulster,  and  at  an  early  age  entered  the 
Spanish— the  imperial  service— influenced,  doubtless,  by  the  same 
motives  that  led  Marshal  MacDonald  into  the  French — that  “ the 
gates  of  promotion  were  closed  at  home.”  Owen,  from  his  great  con- 
nexions and  greater  abilities,  rose  rapidly,  and  held  a high  post  in 
Catalonia.  We  have  heard,  through  Dr.  Gartland,  the  worthy  head  of 
the  Salamanca  College,  that  Eugenio  Rufo  is  still  remembered  there. 
He  held  Arras  in  1640  against  the  French,  and  (says  Carte)  “ sur- 
rendered it  at  last  upon  honourable  terms,  yet  his  conduct  in  the 
“defence  was  such  as  gave  him  great  reputation,  and  procured  him 
“ extraordinary  respect  even  from  the  enemy.” 

Owen  was  sent  for  at  the  first  outbreak  in  1641,  but  it  was  not  till 
the  latter  end  of  June,  1642,  that  he  embarked  for  Dunkirk,  with 
many  of  the  officers  and  men  of  his  own  regiment,  and  supplies  of 
arms.  He  sailed  round  the  north  of  Scotland  to  Donegal,  while  an- 
other frigate  brought  similar  succors  to  Wexford,  under  Henry  O’Neill 
and  Richard  O’ Farrell.  Owen  was  immediately  conducted  to  Charle* 
mont,  and  invested  with  the  command  of  Ulster. 

Immediately  on  Owen’*  landing,  Lesley,  Earl  of  Leven,  and  Gene- 
ral of  the  Scotch  troops,  wrote  to  him,  saying  “he  was  sorry  a 
man  of  his  reputation  and  experience  abroad,  should  come  to  Ireland 
for  the  maintaining  of  so  bad  a cause  ; ” and  advising  his  return 
O’Neill  replied,  “ he  had  more  reason  to  come  to  relieve  the  deplora- 
ble state  of  his  country,  than  Lesley  had  to  march  at  the  head  of  an 
army  into  England  against  his  king,  at  a time  when  they  (the  Scots) 


BATTLE  OF  BENBURB. 


223 


were  already  masters  of  all  Scotland.”  No  contrast  could  be 
greater  or  better  put.  Lord  Leven  immediately  embarked  for 
Scotland,  telling  Monro,  whom  he  left  m command,  “that  he 
would  certainly  be  ousted,  if  O’Neill  once  got  an  army  together.’ 
And  so  it  turned  out.  Owen  sustained  himself  for  four  years 
.gainst  Monro  on  one  side  and  Ormond  on  the  other — haras^d 
y the  demands  of  the  other  provincial  generals,  and  distressed  for 
arant  of  provisions — defying  Monro  by  any  means  to  compel  him  to 
fight  a battle  until  he  was  ready  for  it.  But  at  length,  having  his 
troops  in  fine  fighting  order,  he  fought  and  won  the  greatest  battle 
fought  in  Ireland  since  the  “ Yellow  Ford.”  But  we  must  tell  how 
this  came  about. 

Throughout  1642,  and  in  the  summer  of  1643,  Monro  made  two 
attempts  to  beat  up  O’Neill’s  quarters  ; and  though  the  Irish  General 
had  not  one  tenth  of  Monro’s  force,  he  compelled  him  to  retire  with 
loss  into  Antrim  and  Down.  Assailed  by  Stewart’s  army  on  the 
Donegal  side,  Owen  Roe  retreated  into  Longford  and  Leitrim,  hoping 
in  the  rugged  districts  to  nurse  up  an  army  which  would  enable  him 
to  meet  Monro  in  the  field. 

By  the  autumn  of  1643,  after  having  suffered  many  trifling  losses,  he 
had  got  together  a militia  army  of  3,000  men,  and  the  cessation  hav- 
ing been  concluded,  he  marched  into  Meath,  joined  Sir  James  Dillon* 
and  reduced  the  entire  district.  In  1644,  Monro’s  army  amounting  to 
13,000  men, — O’Neill,  after  having  for  a short  time  occupied  great 
part  of  Ulster,  again  returned  to  North  Leinster.  Here  he  was 
joined  by  Lord  Castlehaven  with  6,000  men  ; but  except  trifling  skir- 
mishes, no  engagement  took  place,  and  Castlehaven  returned, 
disgusted  with  a war,  which  he  had  not  patience  to  value,  nor 
profundity  to  practise.  1645  passed  over  in  similar  skirmishes,  in 
which  the  country  suffered  terribly  from  the  plundering  of  Monro’s 
army. 

The  leaders  under  Owen  Roe  were,  Sir  Phelim  O’Neill,  and  his 
brother  Turlough  ; Con,  Cormac,  Hugh,  and  Brian  O’Neill  ; and  the 
following  chieftains  with  their  clans  : — Bernard  MacMahon,  the  son 
of  Hugh,  chief  of  Monaghan,  and  Baron  of  Dartry ; Colonel  Mac- 
Mahon, Colonel  Patrick  MacNeny  (who  was  married  to  Helen,  siste* 
of  Bernard  MacMahon);  Colonel  Richard  O’Ferrall  of  Longford, 
Roger  Maguire  of  Fermanagh  ; Colonel  Phillip  O’Reilly,  of  Ballyna- 
cargy  castle  in  the  county  of  Cavan  (who  was  married  to  Rose  O’Neill* 


224 


APPE5DIX. 


the  sis*er  of  Owen  Roe)  ; and  the  valiant  Maolmora  O’Reilly  (tmr 
man  to  Philip),  who,  from  his  gTeat  strength  and  determined  bravery 
was  called  Miles  the  Slasher.  The  O'Reillys  brought  200  chosen  men 
of  their  own  name,  and  of  the  MacBradys,  MacCabes,  Mac  Gowans, 
Fitzpatricks,  and  Fitzsimons,  from  Cavan.  Some  fighting  men  were 
also  brought  by  MacGauran  of  Temple  port,  and  MacTernan  of  Cro* 
grhan:  some  Connaught  forces  came  with  the  O’Rorkes,  MacDennotts, 
O’Connors  and  OKelleys;  there  came  also  some  of  the  O’Donnells 
and  O’Doghertys  of  Donegal ; Manus  O’Cane  of  Derry  ; Sir  Con- 
stantine Magennis.  county  of  Down  : the  O’llanlons  of  Armagh,  regal 
standard  bearers  of  Ulster  ; and  the  O’Hagans  of  Tyrone. 

Lords  Blaney,  Conway,  and  Montgomery  commanded  under  Monro. 

In  the  spring  of  1546,  Owen  Roe  met  the  Nuncio  at  Kilkenny,  and 
received  from  the  council  au  ampler  provision  than  heretofore  ; and 
by  May  he  had  completed  his  force  under  it  to  5.000  foot  and  500 
horse.  This  army  consisted  partly  of  veterans  trained  by  the  four 
preceding  campaigns,  and  partly  of  new  levies,  whom  he  rapidly 
brought  into  discipline  by  his  organising  genius,  and  his  stern  punish 
meats. 

With  this  force  he  marched  into  the  county  of  Armagh,  and  Monro, 
hearing  of  his  movements,  advanced  against  him  by  rapid  marches, 
hoping  to  surprise  him  in  Armagh  city.  Monro’s  forces  consisted, 
according  to  all  the  best  authorities,  of  6.000  foot,  600  horse,  and  7 
field-pieces  ; though  some  accounts  raise  his  foot  to  S.500.  and  he  him- 
elf  lowers  it  m ms  apologetic  dispatch  to  3,400  and  states  his  field- 
pieces  at  6. 

Simultaneously  with  Monro's  advance,  his  brother,  Cdone'  George 
.Jouro,  marched  from  Coleraine,  along  the  west  shore  of  l.wch  Neagh, 
~vi:h  three  troops  of  horse  ; and  a junction  was  to  have  been  effected 
between  the  two  Monros  and  the  Tyrconnell  forces  at  Glasslough,  a 
place  in  the  county  Monaghan,  but  only  a few  miles  S.  W.  of  Armagh. 
On  the  4th  of  Jane  Owen  Roe  marched  from  Glasslough  to  Benburb, 
confident,  by  means  of  the  river  and  hilly  country,  that  he  could  pre- 
vent the  intended  junction.  Monro  bivouacked  the  same  night  at 
Hamilton’s  Bawr  four  miles  from  Armagh.  Before  dawn  on  Friday, 
the  5th,  Monro  marched  to  Armagh  town,  burning  houses,  an  * wasting 
crops,  as  he  advanced.  Fearful  lest  his  brother,  who  had  reached 
Dungannon,  should  be  cut  off,  he  marched  towar^  Benbu-b,  and  oq 
fiaejog  the  strength  of  the  Irish  position  there,  advanced  up  the  righf 


BATTLE  OF  BENBURB. 


225 


bank  oi  the  Blackwater,  hoping  to  tempt.  Owen  from  his  ground.  In 
the  meantime  a body  of  Irish  horse,  detached  against  George  Monro, 
had  met  him  near  Dungannon,  and  checked  his  advance,  though  with 
some  loss. 

A good  part  of  the  day  was  thus  spent,  and  it  was  two  o’clock  in  the 
afternoon  before  Monro  crossed  the  Blackwater  at  Kinaird  (now  Ca- 
ledon), and  led  his  army  down  the  left  bank  of  the  river  against 
O’Neill.  This  advance  of  Owen’s  to  Ballykilgavin  was  only  to  con- 
sume time  and  weary  the  enemy,  for  he  shortly  after  retreated  to 
Knocknacliagh,  where  he  had  determined  to  fight.  It  was  now  past 
four  o’clock,  when  the  enemy’s  foot  advanced  in  a double  line  o 
columns.  The  first  line  consisted  of  five,  and  the  second  of  four 
columns,  much  too  close  for  manoeuvring.  The  Irish  front  consisted 
of  four,  and  the  reserve  of  three  divisions,  with  ample  room. 

O’Neill’s  position  was  defended  on  the  right  by  a wet  bog,  and  on 
the  left  by  the  junction  of  the  Blackwater  and  the  Oonagh.  In  his 
front  was  rough,  hillocky  ground,  covered  “with  scrogs  and  bushes. 1 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Richard  O’Farrell  occupied  some  strong  ground 
in  advance  of  Owen’s  position,  but  Colonel  Cunningham,  with  500 
musketeers,  and  the  field-pieces,  carried  the  pass,  and  O’Farrall 
effected  his  retreat  with  little  loss,  and  no  disorder.  The  field  guns 
were  pushed  in  advance  by  Monro  with  most  of  his  cavalry,  but  Owen 
kept  the  main  body  of  his  horse  in  reserve. 

A good  deal  of  skirmishing  took  place,  and  though  the  enemy  had 
gained  much  ground,  his  soldiers  were  growing  weary,  it  was  five 
o’clock,  and  the  evening  sun  of  a clear  and  fiery  June  glared  in  their 
faces.  While  in  this  state,  a body  of  cavalry  was  seen  advancing 
from  the  north-west ; Monro  declared  them  to  be  his  brother’s  squad- 
rons, and  became  confident  of  success.  But  a few  minutes  sufficed  to 
undeceive  him, — they  were  the  detachments,  under  Colonels  Bernard 
MacMahon  and  Patrick  MacNeney,  returning  from  Dungannon,  after 
having  driven  George  Monro  back  upon  his  route. 

The  Scotch  musketeers  continued  for  some  time  to  gain  ground 
along  the  banks  of  the  Oonagh,  and  threatened  Owen’s  left,  till  the 
light  cavalry  of  the  Irish  broke  in  among  them,  sabred  many,  drove 
the  rest  across  the  stream,  and  returned  without  any  loss.  The  bat 
tie  now  became  general.  The  Scotch  cannon  posted  on  a slope  an 
noyed  O’Neill’s  centre,  and  there  seemed  some  danger  of  Monro’s 
manoeuvring  to  the  west  sufficiently  to  communicate  with  George 


226 


APPENDIX. 


Monro’s  corps.  Owen,  therefore,  decided  on  a general  attack,  keeping 
only  Rory  Maguire’s  regiment  as  a reserve.  Ilis  foot  moved  on  it 
steady  columns,  and  his  horse  in  the  spaces  between  the  first  and 
second  charge  of  his  masses.  In  vain  did  Monro’s  cavalry  charge  this 
determined  infantry  ; it  threw  back  from  its  face  squadron  after 
squadron,  and  kept  constantly,  rapidly,  and  evenly  advancing.  In 
vain  did  Lord  Blaney  take  pike  in  hand,  and  stand  in  the  ranks. 
Though  exposed  to  the  play  of  Monro’s  guns  and  musketry,  the  Irish 
infantry  charged  up  hill  without  firing  a shot,  and  closed  with  sabre 
and  pike.  They  met  a gallant  resistance.  Blaney  and  his  men  held 
their  ground  long,  till  the  superior  vivacity  and  freshness  of  the  Irish 
clansmen  bore  him  down. 

An  attempt  was  made  with  the  columns  of  the  rear  line  to  regain 
the  ground  ; but  from  the  confined  space  in  which  they  were  drawn 
up,  the  attempt  to  manoeuvre  them  only  produced  disorder  ; and  just 
at  this  moment,  to  complete  their  ruin,  O’Neill’s  cavalry,  wheeling  by 
the  flanks  of  his  columns,  charged  the  Scotch  cavalry,  and  drove  them 
pell-mell  upon  the  shaken  and  confused  infantry.  A total  rout  fol- 
lowed. Monro,  Lord  Conway,  Captain  Burke,  and  forty  of  the  horse- 
men escaped  across  the  Blaekwater,  but  most  of  the  foot  were  cut  to 
pieces,  or  drowned  in  the  river.  3,423  of  the  enemy  were  found  on 
the  battle-field,  and  Lord  Montgomery^  with  21  officers  and  150  men 
were  taken  prisoners.  O’Neill  lost  70  killed  (including  Colonel 
Manus,  MacNeill  and  Garve  O’Donnell),  and  200  wounded  (including 
Lt.-Col.  O’Farrell  and  Phelim  Mac  Tuohill  O’Neill).  He  took  all  the 
Scots  artillery,  twenty  stand  of  colours,  and  all  the  arms,  save  those 
of  Sir  James  Montgomery,  whose  regiment,  being  on  Monro’s  extreme 
right,  effected  its  retreat  in  some  order.  1,500  draft  horses  and  two 
months’  provisions  were  also  taken,  but,  unfortunately,  Monro’s 
ammunition  blew  up  shortly  after  the  battle  was  won.  Monro  fled 
without  coat  or  wig  to  Lisburn.  Moving  from  thence  he  commanded 
every  household  to  furnish  two  musketeers ; he  wrote  an  apologetic 
and  deceptious  dispatch  to  the  Irish  committee  in  London,  burnt 
Dundrum  and  deserted  most  of  Down.  But  all  his  efforts  would 
have  been  in  vain  ; for  O'Neill,  having  increased  his  army  by  Scotch 
deserters  and  fresh  levies,  to  10,000  foot  and  21  troops  of  horse,  was 
in  the  very  act  of  breaking  in  on  him,  with  a certainty  of  expelling 
the  last  invader  from  Ulster,  when  the  fatal  command  of  the  Nuncio 
cached  Owen  at  Tanderagee,  ordering  him  to  march  southward  to 


THE  BATTLE  OF  BEAL-AN-ATHA-BUIDHE.  227 


support  that  factious  ecclesiastic  againsf  the  peace.  O’Neill,  in  an 
unhappy  hour,  obeyed  the  Nuncio,  abandoned  the  fruits  of  his  splen- 
did victory,  and  inarched  to  Kilkenny. 


II. 

And  Charlemont’s  cannon 
Slew  many  a man  on 

These  meadows  below. 

Poems,  page  34. 

The  following  passage  will  sufficiently  explain  this  allusion  : — 
“Early  in  June  (1602)  Lord  Mountjoy  marched  by  Dundalk  t« 
Armagh,  and  from  thence,  without  interruption,  to  the  banks  of  the 
Biackwater,  about  five  miles  to  the  eastward  of  Portmore,  and  nearer 
to  Loch  Neagh.  He  sent  Sir  Richard  Moryson  to  the  north  bank  of 
the  river,  commenced  the  building  of  a bridge  at  that  point,  and  a 
castle,  which  he  named  Charlemont,  from  his  own  Christian  name, 
and  stationed  a garrison  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  men  there,  uuder 
the  command  of  Captain  Toby  Caulfield — the  founder  of  a noble 
family,  which  has  held  that  spot  from  that  day  to  this  ; but  which 
afterwards  (as  is  usual  with  settlers  in  Ireland)  became  more  Irish 
than  many  of  the  Irish  themselves.” 

MitcheVs  Life  of  Aodh  O’Neill,  p.  219. 

Vide  Irish  Penny  Journal  for  1841-2,  p.  217. 


III. 

And  yonder  Red  Hugh 
Marshal  Bagenal  o'erthrew 

On  Beal-an-atha-buidhe. 

Poems,  page  34. 

THE  BATTLE  OF  BEAL-AN-ATHA-BUIDHE. 

(10th  August,  1595.) 

*The  tenth  morning  of  August  rose  bright  and  serene  'ipon  th# 


228 


APPENDIX. 


towers  of  Armagh  and  the  silver  waters  of  Avonraore.  Before  day 
dawnel,  the  English  army  left  the  city  in  three  divisions,  ind  at  sun- 
rise they  were  winding  through  the  hills  and  woods  behind  the  spot 
where  now  stands  the  little  church  of  Grange.  The  sun  was  glancing 
on  the  corslets  and  spears  of  their  glittering  cavalry  ; their  banners 
waved  proudly,  and  their  bugles  rung  clear  in  the  morning  air;  when, 
suddenly  from  the  thickets  on  both  sides  of  their  path,  a deadly  volley 
of  musketry  swept  through  the  foremost  ranks.  O’Neill  had  stationed 
here  five  hundred  light-armed  troops  to  guard  the  defiles  ; and  in  the 
shelter  of  thick  groves  of  fir-trees  they  had  silently  waited  for  the 
enemy.  Now  they  poured  in  their  shot,  volley  after  volley,  and  killed 
great  numbers  of  the  English:  but  the  first  division, led  by  Bagnal  in 
person,  after  some  hard  fighting,  carried  the  pass,  dislodged  the 
marksmen  from  their  position,  and  drove  them  backwards  into  the 
plain. — The  centre  division  under  Cosby  and  Wingfield,  and  the  rear- 
guard led  by  Cuin  and  Billing,  supported  in  flank  by  the  cavalry 
under  Brooke,  Montacute,  and  Fleming,  now  pushed  forward,  speedily 
cleared  the  difficult  country,  and  formed  in  the  open  ground  in  front 
of  the  Irish  lines.  ‘It  was  not  quite  safe,’  says  an  Irish  chronicler, 
(in  admiration  of  Bagr.al’s  disposition  of  his  forces)  ‘ to  attack  the 
nest  of  griffins  and  den  of  lions  in  which  were  placed  the  soldiers  of 
London.’  Bagnal,  at  the  head  of  his  first  division,  and  aided  by  a 
body  of  cavalry,  charged  the  Irish  light-armed  troops  up  to  the  very 
entrenchments,  in  front  of  which  O’Neill’s  foresight  had  prepared 
some  pits,  covered  over  with  wattles  and  grass ; and  many  of  the 
English  cavalry  rushing  impetuously  forward,  rolled  headlong,  both 
men  and  horses,  into  these  trenches,  and  perished.  Still  the  Mar- 
shal’s chosen  troops,  with  loud  cheers  and  shouts  of  ‘St.  George,  for 
merry  England !’  resolutely  attacked  the  entrenchments  that  stretched 
across  the  pass,  battered  them  with  cannon,  and  in  one  place  succeeded, 
though  with  heavy  loss,  in  forcing  back  their  defenders.  Then  first 
the  main  body  of  O’Neill’s  troops  was  brought  into  action  ; and  with 
bag-pipes  sounding  a charge,  they  fell  upon  the  English,  shouting 
their  fierce  battle-cries,  Lamhdearg ! and  O’Domhnaill  Abu ! O’Neill 
himself,  at  the  head  of  a body  of  horse,  pricked  forward  to  seek  out 
Bagnal  amidst  the  throng  of  battle  ; but  they  never  met : the  marshal 
who  had  done  his  devoir  that  day  like  a good  soldier,  was  shot  through 
the  brain  by  some  unknown  marksman : the  division  he  had  led  wai 
forced  back  by  the  furious  onslaught  of  the  Irish,  and  put  to  uttel 


CYMRIC  RULE  AND  CYMRIC  RULERS, 


229 


rout;  and,  what  added  to  their  confusion,  a cart  of  gunpowder  ex- 
ploded amidst  the  English  ranks,  and  blew  many  of  their  men  to 
atoms.  And  now  the  cavalry  of  Tyr-connell  and  Tyr-owen  dashed 
into  the  plain  and  bore  down  the  remnant  of  Brooke’s  and  Fleming’s 
horse:  the  columns  of  Wingfield  and  Cosby  reeled  before  their 
rushing  charge — while  in  front,  to  the  war  cry  of  Batailla  Abu!  the 
swords  and  axes  of  the  heavy-armed  galloglasses  were  raging 
amongst  the  Saxon  ranks.  By  this  time  the  cannon  were  all  taken  ; 
the  cries  of  ‘ St.  George’  had  failed,  or  turned  into  death-shrieks  ; and 
once  more,  England’s  royal  standard  sunk  before  the  Red  Hand  of 
Tyr-owen. 

“ The  last  who  resisted  was  the  traitor  O’Reilly : twice  he  tried 
to  rally  the  flying  squadrons,  but  was  slain  in  the  attempt  ; and  at 
last  the  whole  of  that  fine  army  was  utterly  routed,  and  fled  pell- 
mell  towards  Armagh,  with  the  Irish  hanging  fiercely  on  their  rear. 
Amidst  the  woods  and  marshes  all  connexion  and  order  were  speedi- 
ly lost ; and  as  O’Donnell’s  chronicler  has  it,  they  were  4 pursued  in 
couples,  in  threes,  in  scores,  in  thirties,  and  in  hundreds,’  and  so  cut 
down  in  detail  by  their  avenging  pursuers.  In  one  spot  especially 
the  carnage  was  terrible,  and  the  country  people  yet  point  out  the 
lane  where  that  hideous  rout  passed  by,  and  call  it  to  this  day  tho 
‘ Bloody  Loaning.’  Two  thousand  five  hundred  English  were  slain  in 
the  battle  and  flight,  including  twenty-three  superior  officers,  besides 
lieutenants  and  ensigns.  Twelve  thousand  gold  pieces,  thirty-four 
standards,  all  the  musical  instruments  and  cannon,  with  a long  train 
of  provision  waggons,  were  a rich  spoil  for  the  Irish  army.  The  con- 
federates had  only  two  hundred  slain  and  six  hundred  wounded. 

MitcheVs  Life  of  Aodh  O'Neill,  pp.  141 — 144. 

V 


IV. 

CYMRIC  RULE  AND  CYMRIC  RULERS 

Poems,  page  41. 

This  poem  has  less  title  than  any  other  in  Part  1.  to  be  ranked 
among  National  (i.  e.  either  in  subject,  or  by  aim  or  allusion,  Irish 
20 


230 


APPENDIX. 


Ballads  and  Songs,  unless  the  affinity  of  the  Cymric  with  the  Irish 
Celts,  and  the  fact  that  the  author  himself  was  of  Welsh  extraction 
by  the  father’s  side,  be  considered  a sufficient  justification. 

Mr.  Davis  was  very  fond  of  the  air — “ The  March  of  the  men  of 
Harlech,”  to  which  this  poein  is  set.  To  evince  his  strong  partiality 
for,  and  sympathy  with,  the  Welsh  people,  it  is  enough  to  quote  the 
following  passage  from  one  of  his  political  essays — 

“We  just  now  opened  WCulloch’s  Geographical  Dictionary , tc  as- 
certain some  Welsh  statistics,  and  found  at  the  name  ‘Wales’  a 
reference  to  ‘England  and  Wales,’  and  at  the  latter  title  nothing 
distinct  on  the  Principality;  and  what  was  there,  was  rather  inferior 
to  the  information  on  Cumberland,  or  most  English  counties. 

“ And  has  time,  then,  we  said,  mouldered  away  that  obstinate 
and  fiery  tribe  of  Celts  which  baffled  the  Plantagenets,  which  so  often 
trod  upon  the  breastplates  of  the  Norman,  which  sometimes  bent  in 
the  summer,  but  ever  rose  when  the  fierce  elements  of  winter  came 
to  aid  the  native  ? Has  that  race  passed  away,  which  stood  under  Lle- 
wellyn, and  rallied  under  Owen  Glendower,  and  gave  the  Dragon  flag 
and  Tudor  kings  to  England  ? Is  the  prophecy  of  twelve  hundred 
years  false — are  the  people  and  tongue  passed  away  V 

“No ! spite  of  the  massacre  of  bards,  and  the  burning  of  records— 
spite  of  political  extinction,  there  is  a million  of  these  Kymrys  in 
Wales  and  its  marches;  and  nine  out  of  ten  of  these  speak  their  old 
tongue,  follow  their  old  customs,  sing  the  songs  which  the  sleepers 
upon  Snowdon  made,  have  their  religious  rites  in  Kymric,  and  hate 
the  Logrian  as  much  as  ever  their  fathers  did.  * * * 

“ Twenty-nine  Welsh  members  could  do  much  if  united,  more  es- 
pecially if  they  would  co-operate  with  the  Irish  and  Scotch  members 
in  demanding  their  share  of  the  imperial  expenditure  ; or  what  would 
be  safer  and  better,  in  agitating  for  a local  council  to  administer  the 
local  affairs  of  the  Principality.  A million  of  the  Kymry,  who  are 
still  apart  in  their  mountains,  who  have  immense  mineral  resources, 
and  some  good  harbours,  one  (Milford)  the  best  in  Britain,  and  who 
are  of  our  blood,  nearly  of  our  old  and  un-English  language,  have  as 
good  a right  to  a local  senate,  as  the  700,000  people  of  Greece,  or  the 
half  million  of  Cassel  or  Mecklenburgh  have  to  independence,  or  as 
each  of  the  States  of  America  has  to  a local  congress.  Localization 
by  means  of  Federalism  seems  the  natural  and  best  resource  cf  a 
country  like  Wales  *o  guard  its  purse,  and  language,  and  characte* 


A CHRISTMAS  SCENE. 


231 


from  imperial  oppression,  and  its  soil  from  foreign  invasion.  As 
powers  run,  it  is  not  like  Ireland  quite  able,  if  free,  to  hold  her  own  ; 
but  it  has  importance  enough  to  entitle  it  to  a local  congress  for  its 
local  affairs.” 


y. 

THE  IRISH  HURRAH. 

Poems,  page  47 

The  second  stanza  of  this  poem,  as  it  appears  in  the  text,  was 
omitted  by  the  author  in  a later  copy.;  it  would  seem,  with  a view  of 
adapting  it  better  to  the  air  to  which  it  is  set. 


VI. 

A CHRISTMAS  SCENE. 

Poems,  page  86. 

The  first  sketch  of  this  poem  differs  a good  deal  from  that  in  the 
text.  It  is  so  pleasing,  that  it  is  given  here,  as  originally  published 
It  was  then  entitled : 

A CHRISTMAS  CAROL. 


I. 

The  hill  blast  comes  howling  from  leaf-rifted  trees, 
Which  late  were  as  harp-strings  to  each  gentle  breeze  ; 
The  sportsmen  have  parted,  the  blue-stockings  gone, 
While  we  sit  happy-hearted — together,  alone. 


232 


APPENDIX, 


II. 

The  glory  of  nature  through  the  window  has  charms, 
But  within,  gentle  Kate,  you’re  entwined  in  my  arms  ; 
The  sportsmen  may  seek  for  snipe,  woodcr  /k  and  har^— 
The  snow  is  on  their  cheek,  on  mine  you.  black  hair. 

m. 

The  painters  may  rave  of  the  light  and  the  shade, 

The  blues  and  the  poets  of  lake,  hill,  and  glade  ; 

While  the  light  of  your  eye,  and  your  soft  wavy  form 
Suit  a proser  like  me  by  the  hearth  bright  and  warm. 


My  Kate,  I’m  so  happy,  your  voice  whispers  soft, 

And  your  cheek  flushes  wilder  by  kissing  so  oft; 
Should  our  kiss  grow  less  fond,  or  the  weather  serene, 
Forth  together  we’ll  wander  to  see  each  loved  scene. 


V. 

And  at  eve,  as  the  sportsmen  and  pedants  will  say, 

As  they  swahow  their  dinner,  how  they  spent  the  day, 
Your  eye,  roguish-smiling,  to  me  only  will  say 
That  more  sweetly  than  any,  you  and  I spent  the  day 


VII. 

THE  FATE  OF  KING  DATHI. 

Poems,  p.  98. 

The  real  adventuies  of  this  warlike  king,  the  last  of  the  Pagan 
monarchs  of  Ireland,  and  likewise  the  last  who  extended  his  conquests 
to  the  continent  of  Europe,  are,  like  too  much  of  the  ancient  annals 
ef  this  country,  obscured  by  the  mixture  of  pious  or  romantic  legends 


FATE  OF  KING  DATHI, 


233 


with  authentic  history.  An  accurate  account  of  Dathi,  and  his  im- 
mediate predecessors,  will  be  found  m the  Addenda  to  Mr.  O’Dono- 
Tan’s  excellent  edition  of  the  Tribes  and  Customs  of  the  Ui-Fiachrach , 
printed  for  the  Irish  Archaeological  Society  ; from  which  the  following 
passages  are  extracted. 

44  In  the  life-time  of  Niall  of  the  Nine  Hostages,  Brian,  his  brother 
of  the  half-blood,  became  King  of  Connaught,  and  his  second  brother 
of  the  half-olood,  Fiachra,  the  ancestor  of  the  O’Dowds  and  all  the 
Ui-Fiachrach  tribes,  became  chief  of  the  district  extending  from 
Carn  Fearadhaigh,  near  Limerick,  to  Magh  Mucroime,  near  Athenry. 
But  dissensions  soon  arose  between  Brian  and  his  brother  Fiachra, 
and  the  result  was  that  a battle  was  fought  between  them,  in  which 
the  latter  was  defeated,  and  delivered  as  a hostage  into  the  hands  of 
his  half  brother,  Niall  of  the  Nine  Hostages.  After  this,  however, 
Dathi,  a very  warlike  youth,  waged  war  on  his  uncle  Brian,  and 
challenged  him  to  a pitched  battle,  at  a place  called  Damh-cluain, 
not  far  from  Knockmea-hill,  near  Tuam.  In  this  battle,  in  which 
Dathi  was  assisted  by  Crimthann,  son  of  Enna  Cennseloch,  King  of 
Leinster,  Brian  and  his  forces  were  routed,  and  pursued  from  the 
field  of  battle  to  Fulcha  Domhnaill,  where  he  was  overtaken  and 
slain  by  Crimthann.  ******** 

44  After  the  fall  of  Brian,  Fiachra  was  set  at  liberty  and  installed 
King  of  Connaught,  and  enjoyed  that  dignity  for  twelve  years,  dur- 
ing which  period  he  was  general  of  the  forces  of  his  brother  Niall. 
According  to  the  book  of  Lecan,  this  Fiachra  had  five  sons,  of 
which  the  most  eminent  were  Dathi,  and  Amhalgaidh  ( vulgo  Awley) 
King  of  Connaught,  who  died  in  the  year  449.  The  seven  sons  of 
this  Amhalgaidh,  together  with  twelve  thousand  men,  are  said  to 
have  been  baptized  in  one  day  by  St.  Patrick,  at  Forrach  Mac  n’ Am- 
halgaidh, near  Killala. 

44  On  the  death  of  his  father  Fiachra,  Dathi  became  King  of  Con- 
naught, and  on  the  death  of  his  uncle,  Niall  of  the  Nine  Hostages, 
he  became  Monarch  of  Ireland,  leaving  the  government  of  Connaught 
to  his  less  warlike  brother  Amhalgaidh.  King  Dathi,  following  the 
example  of  his  predecessor,'  Niall,  not  only  invaded  the  coasts  of 
Gaul,  but  forced  his  way  to  the  very  foot  of  the  Alps,  where  he  was 
killed  by  a flash  of  lightning,  leaving  the  throne  of  Ireland  to  bo 
filled  by  a line  of  Christian  kings.” 

Tribes  and  Customs  of  the  Ui-Fiachrach— Addenda,  pp.  344—6. 


234 


APPENDIX 


vm. 

ARGAN  MOR. 

Poems,  page  102. 

Mr.  Davis  was  very  fond  of  the  air,  for  which  this  poem  was  com- 
posed, and  which  suggested  its  name.  It  is  a simple  air,  of  great 
antiquity,  preserved  in  Bunting’s  Third  Collection,  where  it  is  No.  V. 
of  the  airs  marked  “ very  ancient.”  The  following  is  Mr.  Bunt- 
ing’s account  of  it : — 

“ Argan  Mor. — An  Ossianic  air,  still  sung  to  the  words  preserved 
by  Dr.  Young,  and  published  in  the  first  volume  of  the  Transactions 
of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy.  The  editor  took  down  the  notes  from 
the  singing,  or  rather  recitation,  of  a native  of  Murloch,  in  the  county 
of  Antrim.  This  sequestered  district  lies  along  the  sea-sliore,  be- 
tween Tor  Point  and  Fair  Head,  and  is  still  rife  with  traditions,  both 
musical  and  legendary.  From  the  neighbouring  ports  of  Cushendun 
and  Cushendall  was  the  principal  line  of  communication  with  Scot- 
land ; and,  doubtless,  it  was  by  this  route  that  the  Ossianic  poems 
themselves  found  their  way  into  that  country.” — Ancient  Music  oj 
Ireland—  Preface,  p.  88. 


IX. 

THE  TRUE  IRISH  KING. 

Poems,  page  i05. 

In  an  essay  on  Ballad  History,  Mr.  Davis  refers  to  this  poem,  as  an 
attempt  to  show  how  the  materials  and  hints,  scattered  through  anti- 
quarian volumes,  may  be  brought  together  and  presented  with  effect 
in  a poetical  form.  The  subject  is  one  involved  in  unusual  obscurity 
considering  its  importance  in  Irish  History.  The  chief  notices  of  the 


O SULLIVAN  S RETURN. 


235 


custom  have  been  collected  by  Mr.  O’Donovan  in  the  Addenda  to  bia 
edition  of  the  Tribes  and  Customs  of  the  Ui-Fiachrach,  pp.  425 — 452,  to 
which  work  the  reader  is  referred,  who  may  wish  to  trace  the  disjecta 
membra  poematis , in  the  scattered  hints  and  traditions  of  which  Mr* 
Davis  has  availed  himself. 


X. 

O’SULLIVAN’S  RETURN. 

Poems,  page  122, 

The  following  description  was  prefixed  to  this  ballad  by  the  author, 
on  its  first  publication : — 

“ This  ballad  is  founded  on  an  ill-remembered  story  of  an  Irish 
chief,  returning  after  long  absence  on  the  Continent,  and  being 
wrecked  and  drowned  close  to  his  own  castle. 

“ The  scene  is  laid  in  Bantry  Bay,  which  runs  up  into  the  county  of 
Cork,  in  a north-easterly  direction.  A few  miles  from  its  mouth,  on 
your  left-hand  as  you  go  up,  lies  Beare  Island  (about  seven  miles  long), 
and  between  it  and  the  mainland  of  Beare  lies  Beare  Haven,  one  of 
the  finest  harbours  in  the  world.  Dunboy  Castle,  near  the  present 
Castletown,  was  on  the  main,  so  as  to  command  the  south-western 
entrance  to  the  haven. 

“ Further  up,  along  the  same  shore  of  Beare,  is  Adragoole,  a small 
gulf  off  Bantry  Bay.  ^ 

“ The  scene  of  the  wreck  is  at  the  south-eastern  shore  of  Beare 
Island.  A ship,  steering  from  Spain,  by  Mizenhead  for  Dunboy,  and 
caught  by  a southerly  gale,  if  unable  to  round  the  point  of  Beare  and 
to  make  the  Haven,  should  leave  herself  room  to  run  up  the  bay,  to- 
wards Adragoole,  or  some  other  shelter.” 


236 


APPENDIX. 


XI. 


— Dunbwy  is  lying  lowly 

The  halls  where  mirth  and  minstrelsy 
Than  Beara's  wind  rose  louder , 

Are  flung  in  masses  lonelily , 

And  black  with  English  powder. 

Poems,  p.  129 

The  destruction  of  O’Sullivan’s  Castle  of  Dunboy  or  Dunbwy,  (cor 
rectly  Dunbaoi  or  Dunbuidhe ) is  well  described  by  Mr.  Mitchel  : — 

“ Mountjoy  spent  that  spring  in  Munster,  with  the  President,  re- 
ducing those  fortresses  which  still  remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Irish, 
and  fiercely  crushing  down  every  vestige  of  the  national  war.  Rich- 
ard Tyrrell,  however,  still  kept  the  field  ; and  O’Sullivan  Beare  held 
his  strong  castle  of  Dun-buidhe,  which  he  wrested  from  the  Spaniards 
after  Don  Juan  had  stipulated  to  yield  it  to  the  enemy.*  This  castle 
commanded  Bantry  Bay,  a"d  was  one  of  the  most  important  fortresses 
in  Munster,  and  therefore  Carew  determined,  at  whatever  cost,  to 
make  himself  master  of  it.  Dun-buidhe  was  but  a square  tower, 
with  a court-yard  and  some  out*works,  and  had  but  140  men  ; yet  it 
was  so  strongly  situated,  and  so  bravely  defended,  that  it  held  the 
.Lord  President  and  an  army  of  four  thousand  men,  with,  a great  train 
of  artillery  and  some  ships  of  war,  fifteen  days  before  its  walls.  After 
a breach  was  made,  the  storming  parties  were  twice  driven  back  to 
their  lines  ; and  even  after  the  great  hall  of  the  castle  was  carried, 
the  garrison,  under  their  indomitable  commander.  Mac  Geohegan, 
held  their  ground  in  the  vaults  underneath  for  a whole  day,  and  at 
last  fairly  beat  the  besiegers  out  of  the  hall.  The  English  cannon 
then  played  furiously  upon  the  walls  ; and  the  President  swore  to 

* “ Among  other  places  which  were  neither  yielded  nor  taken  to 
the  end  they  should  be  delivered  to  the  English,  Don  Juan  tied  him- 
self to  deliver  my  castle  and  haven,  the  only  key  of  mine  inheritance, 
whereupon  the  living  of  many  thousand  persons  doth  rest,  that  live 
some  twenty  leagues  upon  the  sea-coast  into  the  hands  of  my  cruel!, 
cursed,  misbelieving  enemies.” — Lettei  of  Donald  O’Sullivan  Beare 
to  the  King  of  Spain. — Pac.  Hib. 


LAMENT  FOR  OWEN  ROE  O NEILL. 


237 


bury  these  obstinate  Irish  under  the  ruins.  Again  a desperate  sortio 
was  made  by  forty  men — they  were  all  slain  ; eight  of  them  leaped 
into  the  sea  to  save  themselves  by  swimming  ; but  Carew,  anticipating 
this,  had  stationed  Captain  Harvy  ‘with  three  boats  to  keepe  the 
sea,  but  had  the  killing  of  them  all  and  at  last,  after  Mac  Geohegan 
was  mortally  wounded,  the  remnant  of  the  garrison  laid  down  their 
arms.  Mac  Geohegan  lay,  bleeding  to  death,  on  the  floor  of  the  vault ; 
yet  when  he  saw  the  besiegers  admitted,  he  raised  himself  up, 
snatched  a lighted  torch,  and  staggered  to  an  open  powder-barrel— 
one  moment,  and  the  castle,  with  all  it  contained,  would  have  rushed 
skyward  in  a pyramid  of  flame,  when  suddenly  an  English  soldier 
seized  him  in  his  arms  ; he  was  killed  on  the  spot,  and  all  the  rest  were 
shortly  after  executed.  ‘ The  whole  number  of  the  ward,’  says  Ca- 
rew,‘consisted  of  one  hundred  and  forty-three  selected  men,  being 
tne  best  choice  of  all  their  forces,  of  which  not  one  man  escaped,  but 
were  either  slain,  executed,  or  buried  in  the  ruins  ; and  so  obstinate 
a defence  hath  not  been  seen  within  this  kingdom.’  Perhaps  some 
will  think  that  the  survivors  of  so  brave  a band  deserved  a better  ffc*# 
than  hanging.” 

Mitchel's  Life  of  Aodh  O'Neill,  pp.  216 — 218 


XII. 

LAMENT  FOR  OWEN  ROE  O’NEILL. 

Poems,  p.  137. 

The  most  notable  events  in  the  career  of  this  great  chieftain,  will 
be  found  in  the  account  of  the  Battle  of  Benburb,  ante , pp.  219— 
225.  The  closing  scenes  of  his  life  were  briefly  narrated  as  fol- 
lows, by  Mr.  Davis,  in  a little  sketch,  published  with  this  poem, 
when  it  first  appeared  : — 

“ In  1649,  the  country  being  exhausted,  Ower.  made  a truce  with 
Monk,  Coote,  and  the  Independents — a truce  observed  on  both  sides, 
though  Monk  was  severely  censured  by  the  English  Pa?  Jament  fo# 


238 


APPFNDIX. 


it. — (Journals,  10t.h  August,  1649.  On  its  expiration,  O’Neill  con- 
cluded a treaty  with  Ormond,  12th  October,  1649;  and  so  eager  was 
he  for  it,  that  ere  it  was  signed,  he  sent  over  3,000  men,  under  Major* 
General  O’Farrell,  to  join  Ormond,  (which  they  did  October  25th.) 
Owen  himself  strove  with  all  haste  to  follow,  to  encounter  Crom- 
well,  who  had  marched  south  after  the  sack  of  Drogheda.  But  fate 
and  an  unscrupulous  foe  forbade.  Poison,  it  is  believed,  had  been 
given  him  either  at  Derry,  or  shortly  after.  His  constitution  strug- 
gled with  it  for  some  time  ; slowly  and  sinking  he  marched  through 
Tyrone  and  Monaghan  into  Cavan,  and, — anxiously  looked  for  by 
Ormond,  O’Farrell,  and  the  southern  corps  and  army, — lingered  till 
the  6th  of  November  (St.  Leonard’s  feast),  when  he  died  at  Clough 
Oughter  Castle, — then  the  seat  of  Maelmorra  O’Reilly,  and  situated 
on  a rock  in  Lough  Oughter  some  six  miles  west  of  Cavan.  He  was 
buried,  says  Carte,  in  Cavan  Abbey  ; but  report  says  his  sepulchre 
was  concealed,  lest  it  should  be  violated  by  the  English.  The  news 
of  his  death  reached  Ormond’s  camp  when  the  Duke  was  preparing 
to  fight  Cromwell, — when  Owen’s  genius  and  soldiers  were  most 
needed.  All  writers  (even  to  the  sceptical  Dr.  O’Conor,  of  Stowe) 
admit  that  had  Owen  lived,  he  would  have  saved  Ireland.  His  gal- 
lantry, his  influence,  his  genius,  his  soldiers,  all  combine  to  render  it 
probable.  The  rashness  with  which  the  stout  bishop,  Ebher  Mac 
Mahon,  led  4,000  of  Owen’s  veterans  to  death  at  Letterkenny,  the 
year  after  ; and  the  way  in  which  Ormond  frittered  away  the 
strength  of  O’Farrell’s  division  (though  1,200  of  them  slew  2,000  of 
Cromwell’s  men  in  the  breach  at  Clonmel), — and  the  utter  prostration 
which  followed,  showed  Ireland  how  great  was  her  loss  when  Owen 
died. 

“ O’Farrell,  Red  Hugh  O’Neill,  and  Mac  Mahon,  were  Ulster 
generals  ; Audley,  Lord  Castlehaven,  and  Preston,  commanded  in 
the  south  and  east ; the  Marquis  of  Clanrickarde  was  president  of 

Connaught.’9 


A RALLY  FOR  IRELAND. 


239 


XIII. 

A RALLY  FOR  IRELAND. 

Poems,  page  140. 

There  is  no  period  in  Irish,  or  in  English  History,  which  has  been 
so  much  misrepresented,  or  of  which  so  utterly  discordant  opinions 
are  still  entertained,  as  the  Revolution  of  1688 — 91.  The  English 
history  of  that  revolution  has  been  elaborately  sifted,  and  its  hidden 
causes  sqpcessively  dragged  to  light,  by  men  of  remarkable  eminence 
in  literature  and  in  politics.  It  is  sufficient  to  mention  in  England, 
Mr.  Fox,  Sir  James  Mackintosh,  Mr.  Hallam,  Dr.  Lingard,  and  Mr 
Ward  ; — in  France,  M.  Thierry  ( Historical  Essays , No.  VI.,)  M. 
Carrel,  and  M.  De  Mazire, — and  among  Irishmen,  Mr.  W.  Wallace, 
( Continuation  of  Mackintosh' s History,)  and  Mr.  Torrens  Mac  Cullagh, 
(Articles  in  the  North  of  England  Magazine  for  1842,  and  in  the  Dublin 
M agazine  for  1843.)  A minute  study  of  some  at  least  of  these 
writers, — Mr.  Wallace’s  History  is,  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  the 
fairest  and  most  comprehensive, — is  indispensable  to  a correct  under- 
standing of  the  Irish  question. 

In  the  Dublin  Magazine  for  1843,  January  to  April,  Mr.  Davis 
devoted  a series  of  papers  to  a critical  examination  of  some  of  the 
Irish  authorities  on  this  subject,  principally  in  regard  to  the  Irish 
Parliament  of  1689  His  aim  was  to  vindicate  the  character  of  that 
legislature,  and  to  refute  some  of  the  most  glaring  falsehoods,  which 
had  hitherto,  by  dint  of  impudent  reassertion,  passed  almost  unques- 
tioned by  Irishmen  of  every  shade  of  political  opinion.  Falsehoods  of 
a more  injurious  tendency  have  never  been  current  among  a people  , 
and  the  effort  to  expose  them  was  with  Mr.  Davis,  a labour  of  zeal 
and  love  ; for  he  knew  well,  how  much  of  the  religious  dissension 
which  has  been  and  is  the  ruin  of  Ireland,  took  its  rise  from,  and 
stands  rooted  in,  erroneous  conceptions  of  that  time.  To  these  papers 
the  reader  is  referred,  who  is  anxious  to  form  an  accurate,  and  withal 
a national  judgment  of  the  cardinal  crisis  in  Irish  History. 

How  hig.i  the  hopes  of  Ireland  were  at  the  commencement  of  this 
struggle,  and  how  she  cherished  afterwards  the  memories  and  hopes 


240 


APPENDIX. 


bequeathed  from  it,  is  abundantly  illustrated  by  the  Jacobite  Relict 
in  Mr.  Hardiman’s  Irish  Minstrelsy , and  in  the  more  recent  collection 
of  Mr.  Daly 


XIV. 

BALLADS  AND  SONGS  OF  TIIE  BRIGADE. 

Poems,  pp.  150 — 168. 

So  considerable  a space  in  this  volume  is  occupied  by  poems, 
founded  on  the  adventures  and  services  of  the  Irish  Brigade,  that  it 
seemed  right  to  include  here  the  following  sketch,  written  by  Mr. 
Davis  in  the  year  1844  : — 

HISTORICAL  SKETCH  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE. 

INTRODUCTION. 

The  foreign  military  achievements  of  the  Irish  began  on  their  own 
account.  They  conquered  and  colonized  Scotland,  frequently  overrun 
England  during  and  after  the  Roman  dominion  there,  and  more  than 
once  penetrated  into  Gaul.  During  the  time  of  the  Danish  invasion, 
they  had  enough  to  do  at  home.  The  progress  of  the  English  con- 
quest brought  them  again  to  battle  on  foreign  ground.  It  is  a melan- 
choly fact,  that  in  the  brigades  wherewith  Edward  I.  ravaged 
Scotland,  there  were  numbers  of  Irish  and  Welsh.  Yet  Scotland 
may  be  content  ; Wales  and  Ireland  suffered  from  the  same  base- 
ness. The  sacred  heights  of  Snowdon  (the  Parnassus  of  Wales) 
were  first  forced  by  Gascon  mountaineers,  whose  independence  had 
perished ; and  the  Scotch  did  no  small  share  of  blood- work  for 
England  here,  from  the  time  of  Monro’s  defeats  in  the  Seventeenth 
Century,  to  the  Fencible  victories  over  drunken  peasants  in  1798. 

In  these  levies  of  Edward  I.,  as  in  those  of  his  son,  were  number* 
of  native  Irish.  The  Connaught  clans  in  particular  seem  to  hav* 
served  these  Plantagf  nets. 


SKETCH  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE. 


241 


From  Edward  Bruce’s  invasion,  the  English  control  was  so  broken 
that  the  Irish  clans  ceased  to  serve  altogether,  and  indeed,  shortly 
after  made  many  of  the  Anglo-Irish  pay  them  tribute.  But  the  lords 
of  the  Pale  took  an  active  and  prominent  part  in  the  wars  of  the 
Roses  ; and  their  vassals  shared  the  victories,  the  defeats,  and  the 
carnage  of  the  time. 

In  the  Continental  wars  of  Edward  III.  and  Henry  V.,  the  Norman- 
Irish  served  with  much  distinction. 

Henry  VIII.  demanded  of  the  Trish  government  2,000  men,  1,000  of 
whom  were,  if  possible,  to  be  gunners,  i.  e.  armed  with  matchlock 
The  services  of  these  Irish  during  the  short  war  in  France,  and  espe- 
cially at  the  siege  of  Boulogne,  are  well  known. 

At  the  submission  of  Ireland  in  1603,  O’Sullivan  Bearra  and  some 
others  excepted  from  the  amnesty,  took  service  and  obtained  high 
rank  in  Spain  ; and  after  the  flight  of  O’Neill  and  O’Donnell  in  1607, 
numbers  of  Irish  crowded  into  all  the  Continental  services.  We  find 
them  holding  commissions  in  Spain,  France,  Austria,  and  Italy. 

Scattered  among  “ Strafford's  Letters ,”  various  indications  are 
discoverable  of  the  estimation  in  which  the  Irish  were  held  as  soldiers 
in  foreign  services  during  the  early  part  of  the  seventeenth  century. 
The  Spanish  government  in  particular  seems  to  have  been  extremely 
desirous  of  enlisting  in  Ireland,  their  own  troops  at  that  time  being 
equal,  if  not  superior,  to  any  in  the  world,  especially  their  infantry. 

Nor  were  the  Irish  troops  less  active  for  the  English  king.  Straf- 
ford had  increased  the  Irish  army.  These  he  paid  regularly,  clothed 
well,  and  frequently  “ drew  out  in  large  bodies.”  He  meant  to  op- 
press, but  discipline  is  a precious  thing,  no  matter  who  teaches  it — a 
Strafford  or  a Wellington  ; and  during  the  wars  which  followed  1641, 
some  of  these  troops  he  had  raised,  served  Ireland.  In  1639,  when 
the  first  row  with  the  Scotch  took  place,  Wentworth  was  able  to 
send  a garrison  of  500  Irish  to  Carlisle,  and  other  forces  to  assist 
Charles.  And  the  victories  of  Montrose  were  owing  to  the  valour 
and  discipline  of  the  Irish  auxiliaries  under  Colkitto  (left-handed) 
Alister  Mac  Donnell. 

Many  of  the  Insn  who  had  lost  their  fortunes  by  the  Cromwellian 
wars,  served  on  the  Continent. 

Tyrconnell  increased  the  Irish  army,  but  with  less  judgment  than 
Strafford.  Indeed,  numbers  of  his  regiments  were  ill-officered  mobs, 
and,  when  real  work  began  in  1689,  were  disbanded  as  having  neither 


APPENDIX. 


is**  2 

arms  nor  discipline.  Ilis  sending  of  the  Irish  tioops  to  England  has- 
tened the  Revolution  by  exciting  jealousy,  and  they  were  too  mere  a 
handful  to  resist.  They  were  forced  to  enter  the  service  of  German 
princes,  especially  the  Prussian. 

[An  account  of  the  formation  of  the  Irish  Brigade , with  the  names 
and  numbers  of  the  regiments , 4c->  * s omitted  here , as  more  accurate 
details  will  be  found  in  “ The  History  of  the  Irish  Brigade which  it 
to  appear  in  the  “ Library  of  Ireland.”] 

SERVICES  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE. 

The  year  before  the  English  Revolution  of  ’88,  William  effected 
the  league  of  Augsburg,  and  combined  Spain,  Italy,  Holland,  and  the 
empire,  against  France  ; but  except  some  sieges  of  imperial  towns, 
the  war  made  no  great  progress  till  1690.  In  that  year  France  blazed 
out  ruin  on  all  sides.  The  Palatinate  was  overrun  and  devastated.— 
The  defeat  of  Humieres  at  Valcourt  was  overweighed  by  Luxem- 
burgh’s  great  victory  over  Prince  Waldech  at  Fleurus. 

But,  as  yet,  no  Irish  troops  served  north  of  the  Alps.  It  was  other- 
wise in  Italy. 

The  Duke  of  Savoy  having  joined  the  Allies,  Marshal  Catinat  en 
tered  his  territories  at  the  head  of  18,000  men.  Mountcashel’s  bn 
gade,  which  landed  in  May  and  had  seen  service,  formed  one-third  of 
this  corps.  Catinat,  a disciple  of  Turenne,  relied  on  his  infantry  ; 
nor  did  he  err  in  this  instance.  On  the  8th  of  August,  1690,  he  met 
the  Duke  of  Savoy  and  Prince  Eugene  at  Staffardo,  near  Salucco. 
The  battle  began  by  a feigned  attack  on  the  Allies’  riyht  wing.  The 
real  attack  was  made  by  ten  battalions  of  infantry,  who  crossed  some 
marshes  heretofore  deemed  impassable,  turned  the  left  wing  com 
manded  by  Prince  Eugene,  drove  it  in  on  the  centre,  and  totally 
routed  the  enemy.  The  Irish  troops  (“  bog-trotters,”  the  Times  calls 
us  now)  proved  that  there  are  more  qualities  in  a soldier  than  the 
light  step  and  hardy  frame  which  the  Irish  bog  gives  to  its  inhabit 
ants. 

But  the  gallant  Mountcashel  received  a wound,  of  which  he  die  i 
Boon  after  at  Bareges. 

This  same  brigade  continued  to  serve  under  Catinat  throughout  the 
Italian  campaigns  of  ’91,  ’92,  and  ’93. 

The  principal  action  of  this  last  year  was  at  Marsiglia  on  the  4th 
Ootober.  It  was  not  materially  iifferent  in  tactic  from  Staffardo. 


SKETCH  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE, 


243 


Catinat  cannonading  the  Allies  from  a height,  made  a feigned  attack 
in  the  centre  while  his  right  wing  lapped  round  Savoy’s  left,  tumbled 
it  in,  and  routed  the  army  with  a loss  of  8,000,  including  Duke 
Sc homberg,  son  to  him  who  died  at  the  Boyne.  On  this  day,  too,  the 
Munster  soldiers  had  their  full  share  of  the  laurels. 

They  continued  to  serve  during  the  whole  of  this  war  against 
Savoy  ; and  when,  in  1696,  the  Duke  changed  sides,  and,  uniting  his 
forces  with  Catinat’s,  laid  siege  to  Valenza  in  North  Italy,  the  Irish 
distinguished  themselves  again.  No  less  than  six  Irish  regiments 
were  at  this  siege. 

While  these  campaigns  were  going  on  in  Italy,  the  garrison  of 
Limerick  landed  in  France,  and  the  second  Irish  Brigade  was  formed 

The  Flanders  campaign  of  ’91  hardly  went  beyond  skirmishes. 

Louis  opened  1692  by  besieging  Namur  at  the  head  of  120,000  men, 
including  the  bulk  of  the  Irish  Brigade.  Luxemburgh  was  the  actual 
commander,  and  Vauban  the  engineer.  Namur,  one  of  the  greatest 
fortresses  of  Flanders,  was  defended  by  Coehorn,  the  all  but  equal 
of  Vauban  ; and  William  advanced  to  its  relief  at  the  head  of  100,000 
men, — illustrious  players  of  that  fearful  game.  But  French  and  Irish 
valour,  pioneered  by  Vauban  and  manoeuvred  by  Luxemburgh,  pre* 
vailed.  In  seven  days  Namur  was  taken,  and  shortly  after  the  citadel 
surrendered,  tnougn  within  shot  of  William’s  camp. 

Louis  returned  to  Versailles,  and  Luxemburgh  continued  his  pro 
gress. 

On  the  24th  of  July,  1692,  William  attempted  to  steal  a victory 
from  the  Marshal  who  had  so  repeatedly  beaten  him.  Having 
forced  a spy  to  persuade  Luxemburgh  that  the  Allies  meant  on!*' 
to  forage,  he  made  an  attack  on  the  French  camp,  then  placed  be- 
tween Steenkirk  and  Enghien.  Wirtemburg  and  Mackay  had  ac- 
tually penetrated  the  French  camp  ere  Luxemburgh  mounted  hit 
horse.  But,  so  rapid  were  his  movements,  so  skilfully  did  he  divide 
the  Allies  and  crush  Wirtemburg  ere  Count  Solmes  could  help  him, 
that  the  enemy  was  driven  off  with  the  loss  of  3,000  men,  and  many 
colours  and  cannon. 

Sarsfield,  who  commanded  the  Brigade  that  day,  was  publicly 
thanked  for  his  conduct.  In  March,  1693,  he  was  made  a MarescliaJ 
de  Camp. 

But  his  proud  career  was  drawing  to  a close.  lie  was  slain  on  the 
39th  July,  1693,  at  Landen,  heading  his  countrymen  in  the  van  of 

PI 


244 


APPENDIX. 


victory,  King  William  flying.  IIe  could  not  have  died  better.  Ilif 
last  thoughts  were  for  his  country.  As  he  lay  on  the  field  unhelmed 
and  dying,  he  put  his  hand  to  his  breast.  When  he  took  it  away,  it 
was  full  of  his  best  blood.  Looking  at  it  sadly  with  an  eye  in  which 
victory  shone  a moment  before,  he  said  faintly,  “ Oh  ! that  this  wer® 
for  Ireland.”  He  said  no  more  ; and  history  records  no  nobler  saying 
nor  any  more  becoming  death.* 

It  is  needless  to  follow  out  the  details  of  the  Italian  and  Flanders 
campaigns.  Suffice  that  bodies  of  the  Irish  troops  served  in  each  of 
«.ne  great  armies,  and  maintained  their  position  in  the  French  ranks 
during  years  of  hard  and  incessant  war. 

James  II.  died  at  St.  Germain’s  on  the  16th  September,  1701,  and 
was  buried  in  the  church  of  the  English  Benedictines  in  Paris.  But 
his  death  did  not  affect  the  Brigade.  Louis  immediately  acknow- 
ledged his  son  James  III.,  and  the  Brigade,  upon  which  the  king’s 
hopes  of  restoration  lay,  was  continued. 

In  1701,  Sheldon’s  cavalry,  then  serving  under  Catinat  in  Italy,  had 
an  engagement  with  the  cavalry  corps  under  the  famous  Count  Merci, 
and  handled  them  so  roughly  that  Sheldon  was  made  a lieutenant- 
general  of  France,  and  the  supernumeraries  of  his  corps  were  put 
on  full  pay. 

In  January,  1705,  occurred  the  famous  rescue  of  Cremona.  Ville- 
roy  succeeded  Catinat  in  August,  1701,  and  having  with  his  usual 
rashness  attacked  Eugene’s  camp  at  Chiari,  he  was  defeated.  Both 
parties  retired  early  to  winter  quarters,  Eugene  encamping  so  as  to 
blockade  Mantua.  While  thus  placed,  he  opened  an  intrigue  with 
one  Cassoli,  a priest  of  Cremona,  where  Villeroy  had  his  head-quar- 
ters. An  old  aqueduct  passed  under  Cassoli’s  house,  and  he  had  it 
cleared  of  mud  and  weeds  by  the  authorities,  under  pretence  that 
his  house  was  injured  for  want  of  drainage.  Having  opened  this 
way,  he  got  several  of  Eugene’s  grenadiers  into  the  town  disguised, 
and  now  at  the  end  of  January  all  was  ready. 

Cremona  lies  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river  Po.  t It  was  then  five 

* According  to  Mr  O’Conor,  {Military  History  of  the  Irish  Nation , 
p.  223.)  “there  was  no  Irish  corps  in  the  army  of  Luxemburgh,  and 
Sarsfield  fell  leading  on  a charge  of  strangers.”  But  this  only  makes 
his  death,  and  the  regrets  which  accompanied  it,  the  more  affecting.—* 
Ed. 

t In  talking  of  right  or  left  banks  of  rivers,  you  are  supposed  to  be 
looking  down  the  stream.  Thus,  Connaught  is  on  the  right  bank  of 
the  Shannon  ; Leinster  and  Munster  on  its  left  bank. 


SKETCH  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE. 


245 


nv.Ies  round,  was  guarded  by  a strong  castle  and  by  an  enceinte , or 
continued  fortification  all  around  it,  pierced  by  five  gates.  One  ol 
ihese  gates  led  almost  directly  to  the  bridge  over  the  Po.  This  bridge 
*as  fortified  by  a redoubt. 

Eugene’s  design  was  to  surprise  the  town  at  night.  He  meant  to 
penetrate  on  two  sides,  south  and  north  Prince  Charles  of  Vaude* 
mont  crossed  the  Po  at  Firenzola,  and  marching  up  the  right  bank 
with  2,500  foot  and  500  horse,  was  to  assault  the  bridge  and  gate  ol 
the  Po,  as  soon  as  Eugene  had  entered  on  the  north.  As  this  north- 
ern attack  was  more  complicated,  and  as  it  succeeded,  it  may  be  best 
described  in  the  narrative  of  events. 

On  the  3 1st  of  January  Eugene  crossed  the  Oglio  at  Ustiano,  and 
approached  the  north  of  the  town.  Marshal  Villeroy  had  that  night 
returned  from  a war  council  at  Milan. 

At  3 o’clock  in  the  morning  of  the  1st  of  February,  the  allies  closed 
in  on  the  town  in  the  following  order:  1,100  men  under  Count 
Kufstein  entered  by  the  aqueduct ; 300  men  were  led  to  the  gate  of 
St.  Margaret’s,  which  had  been  walled  up,  and  immediately  com- 
menced removing  the  wall  from  it ; meantime,  the  other  troops  under 
Kufstein  pushed  on  and  secured  the  ramparts  to  some  distance,  and 
as  soon  as  the  gate  was  cleared,  a vanguard  of  horse  under  C )unt 
Merci  dashed  through  the  town.  Eugene,  Staremberg,  and  Prince 
Comraerci  followed  with  7,000  horse  and  foot.  Patrols  of  cavalry 
rode  the  streets ; Staremberg  seized  the  great  square  ; the  barracks 
of  four  regiments  were  surrounded,  and  the  men  cut  down  as  they 
appeared. 

Marshal  Villeroy,  hearing  the  tumult,  hastily  burned  his  papers 
and  rode  out  attended  only  by  a page.  He  was  quickly  snapped  up 
by  a party  of  Eugene’s  cavalry  commanded  by  an  Irishman  named 
MacDonnell.  Villeroy  seeing  himself  m the  hands  of  a soldier  of 
fortune,  hoped  to  escape  by  bribery.  He  made  offer  after  offer.  A 
thousand  pistoles  and  a regiment  of  horse  were  refused  by  this  poor 
Irish  cap\i.n  ■ and  Villeroy  rode  out  of  the  town  with  his  captor. 

The  Ma  4uis  of  Mongon,  General  Crenant,  and  other  officers, 
shared  the  same  fate,  and  Eugene  assembled  the  town  council  to 
take  an  oath  of  allegiance,  and  supply  him  with  14,000  rations.  All 
seemed  lost. 

All  was  not  lost.  The  Po  gate  was  held  by  35  Irishmen,  and  to 
Herd’s  charge  and  shout  they  answered  with  a fire  that  forced  their 


246 


APPENDIX. 


assailant  to  pass  on  to  the  rampart,  where  he  seized  a battery.  Thi* 
unexpected  and  almost  rash  resistance  was  the  vary  turning  point  oJ 
the  attack.  Had  Merci  got  this  gate,  he  had  only  to  ride  on  and 
open  the  bridge  to  Prince  Vaudemont.  The  entry  of  3,000  men  more, 
and  on  that  side,  would  have  soon  ended  the  contest. 

Not  far  from  this  same  gate  of  the  Po  were  the  quarters  of  two 
Irish  regiments,  Dillon  (one  of  Mountcashel’s  old  brigade)  and  Burke 
the  Athlone  regiment).  Dillon’s  regiment  was,  in  Colonel  Lacy’s 
abseiyce,  commanded  by  Major  Mahony.  He  had  ordered  his  regi 
ment  to  assemble  for  exercise  at  day-break,  and  lay  down.  lie  was 
woke  by  the  noise  of  the  Imperial  Cuirassiers  passing  his  lodgings. 
He  jumped  up,  and  finding  how  things  were,  got  off  to  the  two  corps 
and  found  them  turning  out  in  their  shirts  to  check  the  Imperialists, 
who  swarmed  round  their  quarters. 

He  had  just  got  his  men  together  when  General  D’Arenes  came 
up,  put  himself  at  the  head  of  these  regiments,  who  had  nothing  but 
their  muskets,  shirts,  and  cartouches  about  them.  He  instantly  led 
them  against  Merci's  force,  and  after  a sharp  struggle,  drove  them 
from  the  ramparts,  killing  large  numbers,  and  taking  many  prisoners, 
amongst  others  MacDonnell,  who  returned  to  fight  after,  securing 
Villeroy. 

In  the  mean  time  Estrague’s  regiment  had  made  a post  of  a few 
houses  in  the  great  square  : Count  Revel  had  given  the  word  “ French 
to  the  ramparts,”  and  retook  All-Saints’  Gate,  while  M.  Praslin  made 
head  against  the  Imperial  Cavalry  patroles.  But  when  Revel  at- 
tempted to  push  further  round  the  ramparts  and  regain  St.  Margaret’s 
Gate,  he  was  repulsed  with  heavy  loss,  and  D’Arenes,  who  seems  to 
have  been  every  where,  was  wounded. 

It  was  now  ten  o’clock  in  the  day,  and  Mahony  had  received  orders 
to  fight  his  way  from  the  Po  to  the  Mantua  Gate,  leaving  a detach- 
ment to  guard  the  rampart  from  which  he  had  driven  Merci.  He 
pushed  on,  driving  the  enemy’s  infantry  before  him,  but  suffering 
much  from  their  fire,  when  Baron  Freiberg  at  the  head  of  a regiment 
of  Imperial  Cuirassiers,  burst  into  Dillon’s  regiment.  For  a while 
their  case  seemed  desperate  ; but  almost  naked  as  they  were,  they 
grappled  with  their  foes.  The  linen  shirt  and  the  steel  cuirass — the 
naked  footman  and  the  harnessed  cavalier  met,  and  the  conflict  was 
desperate  and  doubtful.  Just  at  this  moment  Mahony  grasped  tv  4 
*ridle  of  Freiberg's  horse,  and  bid  him  ask  quarter.  “ No  cuijtei  tx-* 


SKEPCH  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE. 


24? 


day,”  said  Freiberg1,  dashing  his  spurs  into  his  horse  ; he  was  instantly 
shot.  The  Cuirassiers  saw  and  paused  ; the  Irish  shouted  and  slashed 
at  them.  The  volley  came  better  and  the  sabres  wavered.  Few  ot 
the  Cuirassiers  lived  to  fly ; but  all  who  survived  did  fly  : and  there 
stood  these  glorious  fellows  in  the  wintry  streets,  bloody,  triumphant, 
half-naked.  Bourke  lost  seven  officers  and  forty-two  soldiers  killed- 
and  nine  officers  and  fifty  soldiers  wounded  ; Dillon  had  one  officer 
and  forty-nine  soldiers  killed,  and  twelve  officers  and  seventy-nine 
soldiers  wounded. 

But  what  matter  for  death  or  wounds  ! Cremona  is  saved.  Eugene 
waited  long  for  Vaudemont,  but  the  French,  guarded  from  Mercf* 
attack  by  the  Irish  picquet  of  35,  had  ample  time  to  evacuate  the  re- 
doubt and  ruin  the  bridge  of  boats. 

On  hearing  of  Freiberg’s  death,  Eugene  made  an  effort  to  keep  the 
town  by  frightening  the  council.  On  hearing  of  the  destruction  of  the 
bridge,  he  despaired,  and  effected  his  retreat  with  consummate  skill, 
retaining  Villeroy  and  100  other  officers  prisoners. 

Europe  rang  with  applause.  Mr.  Forman  mentions  what  we  thiini.  a 
very  doubtful  saying  of  King  William’s  about  this  event.  There  is 
no  such  question  as  to  King  Louis.  He  sent  his  public  and.  formal 
thanks  to  them,  and  raised  their  pay  forthwith.  We  would  not  like 
to  meet  the  Irishman  who,  knowing  these  facts,  would  pass  the  north 
of  Italy,  and  not  track  the  steps  of  the  Irish  regiments  through  the 
streets  and  gates  and  ramparts  of  Cremona. 

Iu  the  campaigns  of  1703,  the  Irish  distinguished  themselves  under 
Vendome  in  Italy,  at  Yittoria,  Luzzara,  Cassano,  and  Calcinato,  and 
still  more  on  the  Rhine.  When  Villars  won  the  battle  of  Freidlin- 
gen,  the  Irish  had  their  share  of  the  glory.  At  Spires,  when  Tallard 
defeated  the  Germans,  they  had  more.  Tallard  had  surprised  the 
enemy,  but  their  commander,  the  Prince  of  Hesse,  rallied  his  men,  and 
auhough  he  had  three  horses  shot  under  him,  he  repelled  the  attack 
and  was  getting  his  troops  well  into  hand.  At  this  crisis  Nugent’s 
regiment  of  horse  was  ordered  to  charge  a corps  of  German  cuirassiers 
They  did  so  effectually.  The  German  cavalry  was  cut  up ; the 
French  infantry  thus  covered  returned  to  their  work,  and  Hesse  wai 
finally  defeated  with  immense  loss. 

And  now  the  fortunes  of  France  begsn  to  waver,  but  the  valouz  o» 

e Brigade  did  not  change. 


21* 


248 


APPENDIX. 


Tt  is  impossible  in  our  space  to  do  more  than  glance  at  the  battlcj  - 
which  they  won  fame  amid  general  defeat. 

At  the  battle  of  Jtochstet  or  Blenheim  in  1704,  Marshal  Tallard  wat 
defeated  ami  taken  prisoner  by  Marlborough  and  Eugene.  The 
French  and  Bavarians  lost  10,000  killed,  13,000  prisoners,  and  90 
pieces  ;f  cannon.  Yet  an  d this  monstrous  disaster,  Clare’s  dragoons 
were  victorious  over  a portion  of  Eugene’s  famous  cavalry,  and  took 
two  standards.  And  in  the  battle  of  Ramillies  in  1706,  where  Ville- 
roy  was  utterly  routea,  Clare's  dragoons  attempted  to  cover  the  wreck 
of  the  retreating  French,  broke  through  an  English  regiment,  and  fol- 
lowed them  into  the  thronging  van  of  the  Allies.  Mr.  Forman  states 
that  they  were  generously  assisted  out  or  this  predicament  by  an 
Italian  regiment,  and  succeeded  in  carrying  T the  English  colours 
they  had  taken. 

At  the  sad  days  of  Oudenarde  and  Ma„  'aquet,  some  of  them  were 
also  present ; but  to  the  victories  which  brightened  this  time,  so  dark 
to  France,  the  Brigade  contributed  materially.  At  the  battle  of  Al- 
manza (13th  March,  1707),  several  Irish  regiments  served  under  Ber- 
wick. In  the  early  p?rt  of  the  day  the  Portuguese  and  Spanish  auxi- 
liaries of  Englan1  were  broken,  but  the  English  and  Dutch  fought 
succassfull)  for  a long  time  ; nor  was  it  till  repeatedly  charged  by  the 
elite  of  Berwick’s  army,  including  the  Irish,  that  they  were  forced  to 
retreat.  3,000  killed,  10,000  prisoners,  and  120  standards  attested  the 
magnitude  of  the  victory.  It  put  King  Philip  on  the  throne  of  Spain. 
In  the  siege  of  Barcelona,  Dillon’s  regiment  fought  w *h  great  effect. 
In  their  ranks  was  a boy  of  twelve  years  old  ; he  was  the  son  of  a 
Galway  gentleman,  Mr.  Lally  or  O’Lally  of  Tulloch  na  Daly,  and  his 
uncle  had  sat  in  James’s  parliament  of  1689.  This  boy,  so  early 
trained,  was  afterwards  the  famous  Count  Lally  de  Tollendal,  whose 
services  in  every  part  of  the  globe  make  his  execution  a stain  upon  the 
honour  as  well  as  upon  the  justice  of  Louis  XVI.  And  when  Villars 
swept  off  the  whole  of  Albemarle’s  battalions  at  Denain,  in  1712,  the 
Irish  were  in  his  van. 

The  treaty  of  Utrecht  and  the  dismissal  of  Marlborough  put  an  end 
to  the  war  in  Flanders,  but  still  many  of  the  Irish  continued  to  serve 
in  Italy  and  Germany,  and  thus  fought  at  Parma,  Guastalla,  and  Phi- 
lipsburg.  In  the  next  war  their  great  and  peculiar  achievement  vva* 
at  the  battle  of  Fontenoy. 

Leuis  in  person  had  laid  siege  to  Toumay  : Marshal  Saxe  was  the 


SKETCH  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE. 


24S 


actual  commander,  and  nad  under  him  79,000  men.  "'he  Duke  dS 
Cumbeiland  advanced  at  the  head  of  55,000  men,  chiefly  English  and 
Dutch,  to  relieve  the  town.  At  the  Duke’s  approach,  Saxe  and  the 
King  advanced  a few  miles  from  Tournay  with  45,000  men,  leaving 
18.000  to  continue  the  siege,  and  6,000  to  guard  the  Scheld.  Saxe 
posted  his  army  along  a range  of  slopes  thus  ; his  centre  was  on  tne 
village  of  Fontem*  , his  left  stretched  off  through  the  wood  of  Barr„ 
his  right  reach*’-  .othe  town  of  St.  Antoine,  close  to  the  Scheld.  H» 
fortified  his  right  and  centre  by  the  villages  of  Fontenoy  and  St  An- 
toine, and  redoubts  near  them.  His  extreme  left  was  also  strengthened 
by  a redoubt  in  the  wood  of  Barri,  but  his  left  centre,  botween  tns- 
wood  and  the  village  of  Fontenoy,  was  not  guarded  by  anything  save 
slight  lines.  Cumberland  had  the  Dutch,  under  Waldeck,  on  his  le^ 
and  twice  they  attempted  to  carry  St.  Antoine,  but  were  repelled 
with  heavy  loss.  The  same  fate  attended  the  English  in  the  centre 
who  thrice  forced  their  way  to  Fontenoy,  but  returned  fewer  and 
sadder  men.  Ingoldsby  was  then  ordered  to  attack  the  wood  of  Barr*’ 
with  Cumberland’s  right.  He  did  so,  and  broke  into  the  wood,  when 
the  artillery  of  the  redoubt  suddenly  opened  on  him,  which,  assisted 
by  a constant  fire  from  the  French  tirailleurs  (light  infantry),  drove 
him  back. 

The  Duke  resolved  to  make  one  great  and  final  effort.  Ho  selected 
his  best  regiments,  veteran  English  corps,  and  formed  them  into 
single  column  of  6,000  men.  At  its  head  were  six  cannon,  and  aj 
many  more  on  the  flanks,  which  did  good  service.  Lord  John  Ha; 
commanded  this  great  mass. 

Every  thing  being  now  ready,  the  column  advanced  slowly  am 
evenly,  as  if  on  the  \ arade  ground.  It  mounted  the  slope  of  Sax? 
position,  and  pressed  on  between  the  wood  of  Barri  and  the  village  i 
Fontenoy.  In  doing  so,  it  was  exposed  to  a cruel  fire  of  artillery  anJ 
sharp-shooters  ; but  it  stood  the  storm,  and  got  behind  Fonteno* 
The  moment  the  object  of  the  column  was  seen,  the  French  troon* 
were  hurried  in  upon  them.  The  cavalry  charged  ; but  the  English 
hardly  paused  to  offer  the  raised  bayonet,  and  then  poured  in  a fata- 
fire.  They  disdained  to  rush  at  the  picked  infantry  of  France.  O* 
they  went  till  within  a short  distance,  and  then  threw  in  their  balls 
with  great  precision,  the  officers  actually  laying  their  canes  along  the 
muskets,  to  make  the  men  fire  low.  Mass  after  mass  of  infantry  was 
broken,  and  on  went  the  column,  reduced,  but  still  apparently  invi* 


250 


APPENDIX. 


cible.  Due  Richelieu  had  four  cannon  hurried  to  the  front,  and  ha 
literally  battered  the  head  of  the  column,  while  the  household 
cavalry  surrounded  them,  and,  in  repeated  charges,  wore  down  their 
strength,  but  these  French  were  fearful  sufferers.  Louis  was  about 
to  leave  the  field.  In  this  juncture  Saxe  ordered  up  his  last  reserve 
— the  Irish  Brigade.  It  consisted  that  day  of  the  regiments  of  Clare, 
Lally,  Dillon,  Berwick,  Roth,  and  Buckley,  with  Fitzjames’s  horse 
O’Brien,  Lord  Clare,  was  in  command.  Aided  by  the  French  regi 
ments  of  Normandy  and  Vaisseany,  they  were  ordered  to  charge  upon 
the  flank  of  the  English  with  fixed  bayonets,  without  firing.  Upon 
the  approach  of  this  splendid  body  of  men,  the  English  were  halted 
on  the  slope  of  a hill,  and  up  that  slope  the  Brigade  rushed  rapidly 
and  in  fine  order.  ‘‘They  were  led  to  immediate  action,  and  the 
stimulating  cry  of  ‘ Cuimhnigidh  ar  Luimneac  agus  arfheile  na  Sacsa - 
nac/t’*  was  re-echoed  from  man  to  man.  The  fortune  of  the  field  was 
no  longer  doubtful,  and  victory  the  most  decisive  crowned  the  arms 
of  France.” 

The  English  were  weary  with  a long  day’s  fighting,  cut  up  by  can 
non,  charge  and  musketry,  and  dispirited  by  the  appearance  of  the 
Brigade  — fresh,  andconsisting  of  young  men  in  high  spirits  and  disci- 
pline— still  they  gave  their  fire  well  and  fatally  : but  they  were  lite- 
rally stunned  by  the  shout  and  shattered  by  the  Irish  charge.  They 
broke  before  the  Irish  bayonets,  and  tumbled  down  the  far  side  of  the 
hill,  disorganized,  hopeless,  and  falling  by  hundreds.  The  Irish 
troops  did  not  pursue  them  far:  the  French  cavalry  and  light  troops 
pressed  on  till  the  relics  of  the  column  were  succoured  by  some  Eng- 
lish cavalry,  and  got  within  the  batteries  of  their  camp.  The  victory 
was  bloody  and  complete.  Louis  is  said  to  have  ridden  down  to  the 
Irish  bivouac,  and  personally  thanked  them  ; and  George  II.,  on  hear- 
ing it,  uttered  that  memorable  imprecation  on  the  Penal  Code, 
“ Cursed  be  the  laws  which  deprive  me  of  such  subjects.”  The  one 
English  volley,  and  the  short  struggle  on  the  crest  of  the  hill,  cost 
the  Irish  dear.  One  fourth  of  the  officers,  including  Colonel  Dillon, 
were  killed,  and  one  third  of  the  men. 

Their  history,  after  Fontenoy,  maybe  easily  given.  In  1747,  they 
carried  the  village  of  Laufeldt,  after  three  attacks,  in  which  anothef 
Colonel  Dillon,  130  other  officers,  and  1,600  men  were  killed  ; and  is 


* ‘ Remember  Limerick  and  British  faith.’ 


SKETCH  OF  THE  IRISH  BRIGADE. 


251 


1751  they  were  at  Maestricht.  Lally’s  regiment  served  in  India,  and 
the  other  regiments  in  Germany,  during  the  war  from  1756  to  1762; 
and  during  the  American  war,  they  fought  m the  French  West  India 
Islands. 

At  this  time  they  were  greatly  reduced,  and  at  the  Revolut  ta, 
sompletely  broken  up. 


THIS 


LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL 


ESSAYS. 


BY  THOMAS  DAVIS. 


“ C&1013  At)Aro  a o-Siftjrn).* 

“ A Soul  came  into  Ireland.* 


NEW  YORK : 

P.  M.  HAVERTY. 

P.  J.  KENEDY, 
'EXCELSIOR  CATHOLIC  PUBLISHING  HOUSE, 

5 Barclay  Street. 

1879. 


r 


PREFACE. 


In  this  Volume  I have  endeavoured  to  do  for 
Thomas  Davis  what  I once  hoped  to  see  him 
do  for  himself — to  gather  together  such  of  his 
historical  and  literary  Miscellanies  as  were 
mainly  devoted  to  the  illustration  of  Ireland.  I 
have  done  so  with  care  and  reverence,  and  I 
believe  they  will  be  found  to  make  a rich  and 
suggestive  book,  and  one  with  a true  soul  in  it. 

In  selecting  them  I kept  in  view — as  I know 
he  would  have  desired — not  fame  for  the  dead, 
but  usefulness  to  the  living. 

I chose  such  as  were  most  likely  to  awaken 
and  instruct  the  People,  and  contribute  to  the 
pui'pose  for  which  Davis  lived.  He  has  written 
nothing  wanting  vitality  and  power  ; but  those 
who  have  still  to  become  familiar  with  his 
writings,  must  not  think  they  have  materials  for 
an  estimate  of  him  here.  He  has  done  greater 
and  more  striking  things.  This  is  but  the  refleo 
tion  of  one  ph^sis  of  his  mind. 


viii 


PREFACE. 


I meditated,  originally,  accompanying  these 
Essays  with  some  account  of  his  intellectual  cha- 
racter and  his  influence  upon  his  time  and  his 
contemporaries.  But,  neither  his  life  nor  writings 
need  any  defence,  and  the  period  for  interpreting 
between  him  and  the  people  has  not  yet  come. 

It  is  not  Death  alone,  but  Time  and  Death 
that  canonize  the  Patriot. 

We  are  still  too  near  to  see  his  proportions 
truly.  The  friends  to  whom  his  singularly  noble 
and  loveable  character  was  familiar,  and  who 
knew  all  the  great  designs  he  was  bringing  to 
maturity,  are  in  no  fit  condition  to  measure  his 
intellectual  force  with  a calm  judgment.  The 
people  who  knew  him  imperfectly,  or  not  at  all — 
for  it  was  one  of  the  practical  lessons  he  taught 
the  young  men  of  his  generation,  to  be  chary  of 
notoriety — have  still  to  gather  from  his  works 
whatever  faint  image  of  a true  Great  Man,  can 
ever  be  collected  from  books.  Till  they  have 
done  this,  they  will  not  be  prepared  to  hear  the 
whole  truth  of  him. 

All  he  was,  and  might  have  become,  they  can 
never  fully  know  ; as  it  is,  their  unconsciousness 
of  what  they  have  lost,  impresses  those  who 
knew  him,  and  them,  with  that  pitying  pain  we 


PREFACE. 


ix 


feel  for  the  indifference  of  a child  to  the  death  of 
ills  father. 

Students  who  will  be  eager  to  estimate  him 
for  themselves,  must  take  in  connexion  with  his 
works  the  fact,  that  over  the  grave  of  this  man, 
living  only  to  manhood,  and  occupying  only  a 
private  station,  there  gathered  a union  of  parties, 
and  a combination  of  intellect  that  would  have 
met  round  the  tomb  of  no  other  man  living,  or 
who  has  lived  in  our  time.  No  life — not  that  of 
Guttenberg,  or  Franklin,  or  Tone,  illustrates 
more  strikingly  than  his,  how  often  it  is  neces- 
sary to  turn  aside  from  the  dais  on  which  stand 
the  great  and  titled,  for  the  real  moving  power 
of  the  time — the  men  who  are  stirring  like  a soul 
in  the  bosom  of  society.  Such  a one  they  will 
speedily  discover  Davis  to  have  been. 

It  is  perhaps  unnecessary  to  announce  that  hia 
friends  will  give  his  entire  works  in  succession 
to  the  public.  All  that  is  left  of  him,  his  re- 
putation and  his  labours,  will  be  their  dear  and 
special  care. 

His  poetry,  carefully  edited  and  noted  by 
one  of  his  friends,  will  form  an  early  volume  in 
this  series — his  political  writings  (which  cannot 
be  included  in  the  “ Library  of  Ireland,”)  will 


C PKKFAVTK* 

he  selected  and  classified  by  another  friend,  and 
appear  in  a distinct  shape.  When  these  have 
had  time  to  sink  into  the  people’s  mind,  hia 
u Life  and  Correspondence,,  will  be  published — 
and  some  attempt  made  to  convey  an  impression 
of  what  he  was  in  life  and  action. 

All  the  Essays  in  the  present  collection  are 
taken  from  The  Nation ; selections  from  his 
Pamphlets,  and  contributions  to  Hie  Irish 
Monthly  Magazine  will  make  another  volume 
of  the  same  character. 

CLO.D. 

CHxMbmBva 


1. 


CONTENTS 


Dedication, 

Pace 

iii 

Preface, 

... 

V 

Study,  ...  . 

... 

13 

Means  and  Aids  to  Self-Education,  ... 

... 

21 

The  History  of  Ireland, 

... 

28 

Ancient  Irela-nd, 

... 

39 

Historical  Monuments  of  Ireland, 

... 

43 

Irish  Antiquities, 

... 

46 

The  Sea  Kings, 

... 

54 

The  Round  Towers  of  Ireland, 

... 

62 

Ethnology  of  the  Irish  Race, 

... 

80 

The  Irish  Brigade, 

... 

89 

The  Speeches  of  Grattan, 

... 

94 

Memorials  of  Wexford, 

... 

104 

The  History  of  To-Day, 

... 

108 

The  Resources  of  Ireland,  ... 

... 

113 

Irish  Topography, 

... 

122 

The  Valuation  of  Ireland, 

... 

134 

Commercial  History  of  Ireland, 

... 

147 

National  Art, 

... 

153 

Art  Unions, 

... 

162 

Illustrations  of  Ireland, 

... 

*165 

Hir.ts  for  Irish  Historical  Paintings,  ... 

... 

169 

Our  National  Language. 

... 

173 

O’Donovan ’s  Irish  Grammar, 

... 

183 

Institutions  of  Dublin, 

... 

187 

Ireland’s  People — Lord’s,  Gentry,  Commonalty, 

198 

...  204 

...  208 
...  210 
...  216 
...  220 
...  231 

...  241 

. 246 


The  State  of  the  Peasantry, 

Habits  and  Character  of  the  Peasantry, 
Irish  Scenery, 

Irish  Music  and  Poetry, 

Ballad  Poetry  of  Ireland,  ...  ... 

A Ballad  History  of  Ireland,  ... 

Repeal  Reading  Rooms, 

Influences  of  Education,  ...  M. 


LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL 


ESSAYS. 


STUDY. 

Beside  a library,  how  poor  are  all  the  other 
greatest  deeds  of  man — his  constitution,  brigade, 
factory,  man-of-war,  cathedral — how  poor  are 
all  miracles  in  comparison  1 Look  at  that  wall  of 
motley  calf-skin,  open  those  slips  of  inked  rags — 
who  would  fancy  them  as  valuable  as  the  row's  of 
stamped  cloth  in  a warehouse  ? Yet  Aladdin’s 
lamp  was  a child’s  kaliedoscope  in  comparison. 
There  the  thoughts  and  deeds  of  the  most  efficient 
men  during  three  thousand  years  are  accumu- 
lated, and  every  one  who  will  learn  a few  con- 
ventional signs — 24  (magic)  letters — can  pass  at 
pleasure  from  Plato  to  Napoleon,  from  the  Ar- 
gonauts to  the  Affghans,  from  the  woven  mathe- 
matics of  La  Place  to  the  mythology  of  Egypt, 
and  the  lyrics  of  Burns.  Young  reader!  pause 
steadily,  and  look  at  this  fact  till  it  blaze  before 
you ; look  till  your  imagination  summon  up  even 


14  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAY9. 

the  few  acts  and  thoughts  named  in  that  last  sen« 
tence  ; and  when  these  visions — from  the  Greek 
pirate  to  the  fiery-eyed  Scotchman  have  begun 
to  dim,  solemnly  resolve  to  use  these  glorious 
opportunities,  as  one  whose  breast  has  been 
Bobbing  at  the  far  sight  of  a mountain,  resolves 
to  climb  it,  and  already  strains  and  exults  in  his 
purposed  toil. 

Throughout  the  country,  at  this  moment, 
thousands  are  consulting  how  to  obtain  and  use 
books.  We  feel  painfully  anxious  that  this  noble 
purpose  should  be  well  directed.  It  is  possible 
that  these  sanguine  young  men,  who  are  wildly 
pressing  for  knowledge,  may  grow  weary  or  be 
misled — to  their  own  and  Ireland's  injury.  We 
intend,  therefore,  to  put  down  a few  hints  and 
warnings  for  them.  Unless  they,  themselves, 
ponder  and  discuss  these  hints  and  warnings  they 
will  be  useless,  nay,  worse  than  useless. 

On  the  selection  and  purchase  of  books  it  is 
hard  to  say  what  is  useful  without  going  into  do- 
tail.  Carlyle  says  that  a library  is  the  true  Uni- 
versity of  our  days,  where  every  sort  of  know- 
ledge is  brought  together  to  be  studied  ; but  the 
student  needs  guides  in  the  library  as  much  as  in 
the  University.  He  does  not  need  rules  nor  rulers ; 
but  light  and  classification  Let  a boy  loose  in  a 
library,  and  if  he  have  years  of  leisure  and  a 
creative  spirit  he  will  come  out  a master  mind 
If  he  have  the  leisure  without  the  original  spring 
he  will  become  a book-worm — a useful  help, 
perhaps,  to  his  neighbours,  but  himself  a very 
feeble  and  poor  creature.  For  one  man  who  gains 
weapons  from  idle  reading,  we  know  twenty  who 


8TUDY. 


15 


lose  their  simplicity  without  getting  strength, 
and  purchase  cold  recollections  of  other  auen’s 
thoughts  by  the  sacrifice  of  nature. 

Just  as  men  are  bewildered  and  lost  from  want 
of  guides  in  a large  library,  so  are  others  from 
an  equal  want  of  direction  in  the  purchase  of  a 
email  one.  We  know  from  bitter  experience 
how  much  money  it  costs  a young  man  to  get  a 
sufficient  library.  Still  more  hard  we  should 
think  it  for  a club  of  young  men  to  do  so.  But 
worse  than  the  loss  of  money,  are  the  weariness 
from  reading  dull  and  shallow  books,  the  corrup- 
tion from  reading  vicious,  extravagant  and  con- 
fused books,  and  the  waste  of  time  and  patience 
from  reading  idle  and  impertinent  books.  The 
remedy  is  not  by  saying  “ this  book  you  shall 
read,  and  this  other  you  shall  not  read  under 
penalty  but  by  inducing  students  to  regard  their 
self-education  solemnly,  by  giving  them  infor- 
mation on  the  classification  of  books,  and  by 
setting  them  to  judge  authors  vigorously  and  for 
themselves. 

Booksellers,  especially  in  small  towns,  exer- 
cise no  small  influence  in  the  choice  of  books— 
yet  they  are  generally  unfit  to  do  so.  They  are 
like  agents  for  the  sale  of  patent  medicines — . 
knowing  the  prices  but  not  the  ingredients,  nor 
tne  comparative  worth  of  their  goods,  yet  puffing 
them  for  the  commission  sake. 

If  some  competent  person  would  write  a book 
on  books,  he  would  do  the  world  a great  favour  ; 
but  he  had  need  be  a man  of  caution,  above  po- 
litical bias  or  personal  motive,  and  indifferent  to 
the  outcries  of  party.  Todd’s  Students’  Manual, 


16  LITER  A 111  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

Vericour's  Modern  French  Literature,  and  tha 
like,  arc  rather  childish  affairs,  though  better 
than  nothing.  M‘Cullagh*s  “ Rise  and  Study 
of  History”  is,  on  its  peculiar  subject,  a book  of 
much  value.  Men  will  differ  in  judging  the 
style ; but  it  honestly,  learnedly,  and  in  a sug 
gestive,  candid  way  examines  the  great  histories 
from  Herodotus  down.  We  wish  to  see  it  more 
generally  in  the  people’s  hands.  Occasionally 
one  meets  in  a Review  a comprehensive  and  just 
estimate  of  the  authorities  on  some  subject;  but 
most  of  these  periodicals  are  written  for  some 
party  or  interested  purpose,  and  are  not  trust- 
worthy. Hallam’s  Literature  of  Europe,  Sis- 
mondi  and  Schlegel  are  guides  of  the  highest 
value  in  the  formation  of  a large  library,  but  we 
fear  their  use  in  Ireland  is  remote. 

One  of  the  first  mistakes  a young,  ardent 
student  falls  into  is,  that  he  can  master  all  know- 
ledge. The  desire  for  universal  attainment  is 
natural  and  glorious  ; but  he.  who  feels  it,  is  in 
danger  of  hurrying  over  a multitude  of  books, 
and  confusing  himself  into  the  belief  that  he  is 
about  to  know  every  thing  because  be  has 
skimmed  many  things. 

Another  evil  is  apt  to  grow  from  this.  A 
young  man  who  gets  a name  for  a great  variety 
of  knowledge  often  is  ashamed  to  appear  ignorant 
of  what  he  does  not  know.  He  is  appealed  to  as 
an  authority,  and,  instead  of  manfully  and  wisely 
avowing  his  ignorance,  he  harangues  from  the 
title-page,  or  skilfully  parades  the  opinions  ot 
other  men  as  if  they  were  his  own  observations. 

Looking  through  books  in  oraer  to  calk  of 


STUDS'. 


17 


them  is  one  of  the  worst  and  commonest  vices* 
It  is  an  acted  lie,  a device  to  conceal  laziness 
and  ignorance,  or  to  compensate  for  want  of  wit ; 
a stupid  device,  too,  for  it  is  soon  found  out,  the 
employer  of  it  gets  the  character  of  being  a 
literary  cheat,  he  is  thought  a pretender,  even 
when  well-informed,  and  a plagiarist  when  most 
original. 

Heading  to  consume  time  is  an  honest  but  weak 
employment.  It  is  a positive  disease  with  mul- 
titudes of  people.  They  crouch  in  corners,  going 
over  novels  and  biographies  at  the  rate  of  two 
volumes  a-da}^,  when  they  would  have  been  far 
better  employed  in  digging  or  playing  shuttle- 
cock. Still  it  is  hard  to  distinguish  between  this 
long-looking  through  books  and  the  voracity  of 
a curious  and  powerful  mind  gathering  stores, 
which  it  will  afterwards  arrange  and  use.  Indeed 
the  highest  reading  of  all  (what  we  may  name 
epic  reading)  is  of  this  class.  When  we  are 
youngest  and  heartiest  we  read  thus.  The  fate 
and  passions  of  men  are  all  in  all  to  us  ; for 
we  are  then  true-lovers,  candidates  for  laurel 
crowns,  assured  Liberators  and  conquerors  of  the 
earth,  rivals  of  archangels  perchance  in  our 
dreams.  We  never  pause  then  upon  the  ar- 
tistical  excellence  of  a book — we  never  try  to 
look  at  and  realise  the  scenery  or  sounds  de- 
scribed (if  the  author  make  them  clear,  well  and 
good — if  not,  no  matter) — we  hurry  on  to  the 
end — of  the  shipwreck,  or  the  battle,  the  courtship, 
or  the  journey — palpitating  for  our  hero’s  fate. 
This,  we  repeat,  is  the  highest  kind  of  reading. 


18  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS, 

This  sort  of  reading  is  most  common  in  human 
narrative. 

Earnest  readers  of  science  read  their  books  at 
first  as  ordinary  people  do  their  histories — for 
the  plot. 

Some  of  us  can  recollect  the  zealous  rush 
thr<  ugh  a fresh  book  on  mathematics  or  chymis- 
try  to  know  the  subtle  scheme  of  reasoning,  or 
understand  the  just  unveiled  secrets  of  nature  as 
" e read  “ Sinbad  the  Sailor”  or  “ Mungo  Park’s 
Travels.” 

But  most  readers  of  science  read  in  order  to 
use  it.  They  try  to  acquire  command  over  each 
part  for  convenience  sake,  and  not  from  curiosity 
or  love.  All  men  who  persevere  in  science  do 
this  latter  mainly  ; but  all  of  them  retain  or  ac- 
quire the  epic  spirit  in  reading,  and  we  have  seen 
a dry  lawyer  swallow  a stiff  treatise,  not  think- 
ing of  its  use  in  his  arguments,  but  its  intrinsic 
beauty  of  system  and  accuracy  of  logic. 

He  who  seeks  to  make  much  use,  too,  of  nar- 
rative literature  (be  it  novel,  poem,  drama,  his- 
tory, or  travel),  must  learn  scientific  as  well  as 
epic  reading. 

He  need  not  formally  criticise  and  review 
every  book,  still  less  need  he  pause  on  every  sen' 
tence  and  word  till  the  full  meaning  of  it  stands 
before  him. 

But  he  must  often  do  this.  He  must  analyse 
as  well  as  enjoy.  He  must  consider  the  elements 
Iis  well  as  the  argument  of  a book,  just  as,  long 
dwelling  on  a landscape,  he  will  begin  to  know 
the  trees  and  rocks,  the  sun-flooded  hollow,  and 


STUDY. 


19 


the  cloud-crowned  top,  which  go  to  make  the 
scene — or,  to  use  a more  illustrative  thought— 
as  one,  long  listening  to  the  noise  on  a sumraef 
day,  comes  to  separate  and  mark  the  bleat  of  the 
lamb,  the  hoarse  caw  of  the  crow,  the  song  of  the 
thrush,  the  buzz  of  the  bee,  and  the  tinkle  of  the 
brook. 

Doing  this  deliberately  is  an  evil  to  the  mind 
whether  the  subject  be  nature  or  books.  The 
evil  is  not  because  the  act  is  one  of  analysis, 
though  that  has  been  said.  It  is  proof  of  higher 
power  to  combine  new  ideas  out  of  what  is  before 
you,  or  to  notice  combinations  not  at  first  ob- 
vious, than  to  distinguish  and  separate.  The 
latter  tends  to  logic,  which  is  our  humblest  ex- 
ercise of  mind,  the  former  to  creation,  which  is 
our  highest.  Yet  analysis  is  not  an  unhealthy 
act  of  mind,  nor  is  the  process  we  have  described 
always  analytical. 

The  evil  of  deliberate  criticism  is,  that  it  ge- 
nerates scepticism.  Of  course  we  do  not  mean 
religious,  but  general  scepticism.  The  process 
goes  on  till  one  sees  only  stratification  in  the 
slope,  gases  in  the  stream,  cunning  tissues  in 
the  face,  associations  in  the  mind,  and  an  astro- 
nomical machine  in  the  sky.  A more  miserable 
state  of  soul  no  mortal  ever  suffered  than  this. 
But  an  earnest  man  living  and  loving  vigorously 
is  in  little  danger  of  this  condition,  nor  does  it 
last  long  with  any  man  of  strong  character. 

Another  evil,  confined  chiefly  to  men  who 
write  or  talk  for  effect,  is  that  they  become  spies 
(as  Emerson  calls  them)  on  nature.  They  do 
not  wonder  at  love,  or  hate  what  they  see.  All 


SO  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


books  and  men  are  arsenals  to  be  used,  or,  mors 
properly,  stores  to  be  plundered  by  them.  But 
their  punishment  i*  uha/p.  1 hey  love  insight 
into  the  godlier  qualities,  they  love  the  sight  of 
sympathy,  anu  ueconie  conscious  act/^C'j  of  a poor 
farce. 

Happiest  is  hs  w ho  judges  and  knows  books, 
and  nature,  and  men  (himself  included),  spon- 
taneously or  from  early  training — whose  feelings 
are  assessors  with  his  intellects,  and  who  is  tho- 
roughly in  earnest.  An  actor  or  a spy  is  weak 
as  well  as  wretched ; yet  it  may  be  needful  for 
him  who  was  blinded  by  the  low  principles,  the 
tasteless  rules,  and  the  stupid  habits  of  his  family 
and  teachers,  to  face  this  danger,  deliberately  to 
analyze  his  own  and  others’ nature,  deliberately  to 
study  how  faculties  are  acquired  and  results  pro- 
duced, and  thus  to  cure  himself  of  blindness, 
and  deafness,  and  dumbness,  and  become  a man, 
observant  and  skilful.  He  will  suffer  much,  and 
run  great  danger,  but  if  he  go  through  this  faith- 
fully, and  then  fling  himself  into  action  and 
undertake  responsibility*  be  6hall  be  great  and 


MEANS  AND  AIDS  TO  SEEF-EDUCATION  a 


.MEANS  AND  AIDS  TO  SELF-EDUCATION 

« What  good  were  it  for  me  to  manufacture  perfect 
iron,  while  my  own  breast  is  full  of  dross?  What 
would  it  stead  me  to  put  properties  of  land  in  order, 
while  I am  at  variance  with  myself?  To  speak  it  in  a 
word  ; the  cultivation  of  my  individual  self,  here  as  1 
am,  has  from  my  youth  upwards  been  constantly  though 
dimly  my  wish  and  my  purpose.,, 

“ Men  are  so  inclined  to  content  themselves  with 
what  is  commonest ; the  spirit  and  the  senses  so  easily 
grow  dead  to  the  impressions  of  the  beautiful  and  per- 
fect ; that  every  one  should  study  to  nourish  in  his 
mind  the  faculty  of  feeling  these  things  by  every 
method  in  his  power.  For  no  man  can  bear  to  be 
entirely  deprived  of  such  enjoyments;  it  is  only  be- 
cause they  are  not  used  to  taste  of  wrhat  is  excellent, 
that  the  generality  of  people  take  delight  in  silly  and 
insipid  things,  provided  they  be  new.  For  this  reason, 
he  would  add,  * one  ought  every  day  at  least  to  hear  a 
little  song,  read  a good  poem,  see  a fine  picture,  and,  if 
it  were  possible,  to  speak  a few  reasonable  words.*” — 
Goethe . 

We  have  been  often  asked  by  certain  of  the 
Temperance  Societies  to  give  them  some  advice 
on  Self-Education.  Lately  we  promised  one  of 
these  bodies  to  write  some  hints,  as  to  how  the 
members  of  it  could  use  their  association  for  their 
mental  improvement. 

We  said,  and  say  again,  that  the  Temperance 
Societies  can  be  made  use  of  by  the  people  for 
their  instruction  as  well  as  pleasure.  Assemblies 
of  any  kind  are  not  the  best  places  either  for 


22 


LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


study  or  invention.  Home  or  solitude  are  be»* 
ter — home  is  the  great  teacher.  In  domestic 
business  we  learn  mechanical  skill,  the  nature  of 
those  material  bodies  with  which  we  have  most 
to  deal  in  life — we  learn  labour  by  example  and 
by  kindly  precepts — we  learn  (in  a prudent 
home)  decorum,  cleanliness,  order — in  a virtuous 
home  we  learn  more  than  these,  we  learn  rever- 
ence for  the  old,  affection  without  passion,  truth, 
piety,  and  justice.  These  are  the  greatest  things 
man  can  know.  Having  these  he  is  well  ; with- 
out them  attainments  of  wealth  or  talent  are  of 
little  worth.  Home  is  the  great  teacher;  and  its 
teaching  passes  down  in  honest  homes  from 
generation  to  generation,  and  neither  the  gene- 
ration that  gives,  nor  the  generation  that  takes  it, 
lays  down  plans  for  bringing  it  to  pass. 

Again,  to  come  to  designed  learning.  We 
learn  arts  and  professions  by  apprenticeships, 
that  is,  much  after  the  fashion  we  learned  walk- 
ing or  stitching,  or  fire-making,  or  love-making 
at  home — by  example,  precept,  and  practice  com- 
bined Apprentices  at  anything,  from  ditching, 
basket-work,  or  watch-making,  to  merchant- 
trading, legislation,  or  surgery,  submit  either  to  a 
nominal  or  an  actual  apprenticeship.  They  see 
other  men  do  these  things,  they  desire  to  do 
the  same,  and  they  learn  to  do  so  by  watching 
flow  and  when,  and  asking  or  guessing  why  each 
part  of  the  business  is  done  ; and  as  fast  as 
they  know  or  are  supposed  to  know,  any  one 
part,  whether  it  be  sloping  the  ditch,  or  totting 
the  accounts,  or  dressing  the  limb,  they  begin  to 
da  that,  and  being  directed  when  they  fail,  they 


MEANS  AND  AIDS  IO  SELF-EDUCATION.  25 


karn  at  last  to  do  it  well,  and  are  thereby  pre- 
pared to  attempt  some  other  or  harder  part  of  the 
business. 

Thus  it  is  by  experience — or  trying  to  do,  and 
often  doing  a thing — combined  with  teaching,  or 
seeing,  and  being  told  how  and  why  other  people, 
more  experienced,  do  that  thing,  mat  most  of  the 
practical  business  of  life  is  learned. 

In  some  trades  formal  apprenticeship  and 
planned  teaching  exist  as  little  as  in  ordinary 
home- teaching.  Few  men  are,  of  set  purpose, 
taught  to  dig  ; and  just  as  few  are  taught  to 
legislate. 

Where  formal  teaching  is  usual,  as  in  wbsfc 
are  called  learned  professions,  and  in  delicsts 
trades,  fewer  men  know  anything  of  these  busi- 
nesses. Those  who  learn  them  at  all,  do  so  ex- 
actly and  fully,  but  commonly  practise  them  in  a 
formal  and  technical  way,  and  invent  and  im- 
prove them  little.  In  those  occupations  which 
most  men  take  up  casually — as  book- writing, 
digging,  singing,  and  legislation,  and  the  like — 
there  is  much  less  exact  knowledge,  less  form, 
more  originality  and  progress,  and  more  of  the 
public  know  something  about  them  in  an  unpro- 
fessional way. 

The  Caste  system  of  India,  Egypt,  and  Ancient 
Ireland,  carried  out  the  formal  apprenticeship 
plan  to  its  full  extent.  The  United  States  of 
America  have  very  little  of  it.  .Modern  Europe 
is  between  the  two,  as  she  has  in  most  things 
abolished  caste  or  hereditary  professions  (kn^ 
and  nobles  excepted),  but  lias,  in  many  things 
retained  exact  apprenticeships. 


2-k  literary  and  historical  essays. 


Marriage,  and  the  bringing  up  of  children,  the 
employment  of  dependants,  travel,  and  daily 
sights,  and  society,  are  our  chief  teachers  of 
morals,  sentiment,  taste,  prudence,  and  manners. 
Mechanical  and  literary  skill  of  all  sorts,  and 
most  accomplishments,  are  usua’lv  picked  up  in 
this  same  way. 

We  have  said  all  this,  lest  our  less-instructed 
readers  should  fall  into  a mistake  common  to  all 
beginners  in  study,  that  books,  and  schooling, 
and  lectures,  are  the  chief  teachers  in  life  ; 
whereas  most  of  the  things  we  learn  here  are 
learned  from  the  experience  of  home,  and  of  the 
practical  parts  of  our  trades  and  amusements. 

We  pray  our  humbler  friends  to  think  long 
and  often  on  this. 

But  let  them  not  suppose  we  undervalue,  or 
wish  them  to  neglect  other  kinds  of  teaching  ; 
on  the  contrary,  they  should  mark  how  much 
the  influences  of  home,  and  business,  and  society, 
are  affected  by  the  quantity  and  sort  of  their 
scholarship. 

Home  life  is  obviously  enough  affected  by 
education.  Where  the  parents  read  and  write, 
the  children  learn  to  do  so  too,  early  in  life,  and 
with  little  trouble  ; where  they  know  something 
of  their  religious  creed,  they  give  its  rights  a 
higher  meaning  than  mere  forms  ; where  they 
know  the  history  of  the  country  well,  every  field, 
every  old  tower  or  arch  is  a subject  of  amuse- 
ment, of  fine  old  stories,  and  fine  young  hopes  ; 
where  they  know  the  nature  of  other  people  and 
countries,  their  own  country  and  people  become 
texts  to  be  commented  on,  and  likewise  supply 


MEANS  AND  AIDS  TO  SELF-EDUCATION.  25 

n living  comment  on  those  peculiarities  of  which 
they  have  read. 

Again,  where  the  members  of  a family  can 
reaa  aloud,  or  play,  or  sing,  they  have  a well  of 
pleasant  thoughts  and  good  feelings,  which  can 
hardly  be  dried  or  frozen  up ; and  so  of  other 
things. 

And  in  the  trades  and  professions  of  life,  to 
study  in  books  the  objects,  customs  and  rules  of 
that  trade  or  profession  to  which  you  are  going 
saves  time,  enables  you  to  improve  your  practice 
of  it,  and  makes  you  less  dependent  on  the  teach- 
irg  of  other  practitioners,  who  are  often  inte- 
rested in  delaying  you. 

In  these  and  a thousand  ways  besides,  study 
and  science  produce  the  best  effects  upon  the 
practical  parts  of  life. 

Besides,  the  Jirst  business  of  life  is  the  im- 
provement of  one’s  own  heart  and  mind.  The 
study  of  the  thoughts  and  deeds  of  great  men, 
the  laws  of  human,  and  animal,  and  vegetable, 
and  lileless  nature,  the  principles  of  tine  and 
mechanical  arts,  and  of  morals,  society,  and 
religion — al.  directly  give  us  nobler  and  greater 
desires,  more  wide  and  generous  judgments,  and 
more  refined  pleasures. 

Learning  in  this  latter  sense  may  be  got 
either  at  home  or  at  school,  by  solitary  study,  or 
in  associations.  Home  learning  depends,  of 
course,  on  the  knowledge,  good  sense,  and  leisure 
of  the  parents.  The  German  Jean  Paul,  the 
American  Emerson,  and  others  of  an  inferior 
sort,  have  written  deep  and  fruitful  truths  on 
bringing  up,  and  teaching  at  home.  Yet,  con' 


26  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAY®. 

sidering  its  importance,  it  has  not  been  suf- 
ficiently studied.  Upon  schools  much  has  been 
written.  Almost  all  the  private  schools  in  this 
country  are  bad.  They  merely  cram  the  memo- 
ries of  pupils  with  facts  or  words,  without  deve- 
loping their  judgment,  taste,  or  invention,  or 
teaching  them  the  application  of  any  knowledge. 
Besides,  the  things  taught  are  commonly  those 
least  worth  learning.  This  is  especially  true  of 
the  middle  and  richer  classes.  Instead  of  being 
' taught  the  n <ture,  products,  and  history,  first  of 
their  own,  and  then  of  other  countries,  they  are 
buried  in  classical  frivolities,  languages  which 
they  never  master,  and  manners  and  races  which 
they  cannot  appreciate.  Instead  of  being  dis- 
ciplined to  think  exactly,  to  speak  and  write 
accurately,  they  are  crammed  with  rules,  and 
taught  to  repeat  forms  by  rote. 

The  National  Schools  are  a vast  mprovement 
on  anything  hitherto  in  this  country,  but  still 
they  have  great  faults.  From  the  miserably 
small  grant,  the  teachers  are  badly  paid  and 
therefore  hastily  and  meag^rly  educated. 

The  maps,  drawing,  and  musical  instruments, 
museums,  and  scientific  apparatus,  which  should 
be  in  every  school,  are  mostly  wanting  altogether. 
The  books,  also,  are  defective. 

The  information  has  the  worst  fault  of  the 
French  system  ; it  is  too  exclusively  on  physical 
Science  and  natural  history.  Fancy  & National 
School  which  teaches  the  children  no  more  of 
Lhe  state  and  history  of  Ireland  than  of  Belgium 
or  Japan!  We  have  spoken  to  pupils,  nay,  to 
masters  of  the  National  Schools,  who  were  igno* 


MEANS  AND  AIDS  TO  SELF- EDUCATION.  27 


rant  of  the  physical  character  of  every  part  of 
Ireland  except  their  native  villages — who  knew 
not  how  the  people  lived,  or  died,  or  sported,  or 
fought — who  had  never  heard  of  Tara,  Clontarf, 
Limerick  or  Dungannon— to  whom  the  O’Neill’s 
and  Sarsfields,  the  Swifts  and  Sternes,  the  Grat- 
tans and  Barrys,  our  generals,  statesmen,  authors, 
orators,  and  artists,  were  alike  and  utterly  un- 
known ! Even  the  hedge  schools  kept  up  some- 
thing of  the  romance,  history,  and  music  of  the 
country. 

Until  the  National  Schools  fall  under  national 
control,  the  people  must  take  diligent  care  to  pro- 
cure books  on  the  history , wen , language,  music, 
and  manners  of  Ireland  for  their  children , 
These  schools  are  very  good  so  far  as  they  go,  and 
the  children  should  be  sent  to  them  ; but  they 
are  not  national , they  do  not  use  the  Irish  lan- 
guage, nor  teach  anything  peculiarly  Irish. 

as  to  solitary  study,  lists  of  books,  pictures, 
and  maps,  can  alone  be  given  ; and  to  do  thia 
usefully,  would  exceed  our  space  at  present. 

As  it  is,  we  find  that  we  have  no  more  room, 
and  have  not  said  a word  on  what  we  proposed 
to  write — ftamely,  Self-Education  through  the 
Temperance  Societies. 

We  do  not  regret  having  wandered  from  our 
professed  subject,  as,  if  treated  exclusively,  it 
might  lead  men  into  errors  which  no,  after-thought 
sould  cure. 

What  we  chiefly  desire  is,  to  set  the  people  on 
making  out  plans  for  their  own  and  their  chil- 
dren’s education.  Thinking  cannot  be  done  by 
deputy — they  must  think  for  themselves. 


$8  LITER  ART  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS* 


THE  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND. 

Something  lias  been  done  to  rescue  Ireland 
from  the  reproach  that  she  was  a wailing  and 
ignorant  slave. 

Brag  as  we  like,  the  reproach  was  not  unde- 
served, nor  is  it  quite  removed. 

She  is  still  a serf-nation,  but  she  is  struggling 
wisely  and  patiently,  and  is  ready  to  struggle 
with  all  the  energy  her  advisers  think  politic,  for 
liberty.  She  has  ceased  to  wail — she  is  begin- 
ning to  make  up  a record  of  English  crime  and 
Irish  suffering,  in  order  to  explain  the  past,  to 
justify  the  present,  and  caution  the  future.  She 
begins  to  study  the  past  — not  to  acquire  a beg- 
gar’s eloquence  in  petition,  but  a hero’s  wrath  in 
strife.  She  no  longer  tears  and  parades  her 
wounds,  to  win  her  smiter’s  mercy  ; and  now  she 
should  look  upon  her  breast  and  say — “ That 
wound  makes  me  distrust,  and  this  makes  me 
guard,  and  they  all  will  make  me  steadier  to 
resist,  or,  if  all  else  fails,  fiercer  to  avenge/9 

Thus  will  Ireland  do  naturally  and  honour- 
ably. 

Our  spirit  has  increased — our  liberty  is  not 
far  off. 

But  to  make  our  spirit  lasting  and  wise  as  it  is 
bold — to  make  our  liberty  an  inheritance  for  our 
children,  and  a charter  for  our  prosperity,  we 
must  study  as  v^ell  as  strive,  and  learn  as  well  as 
feel. 


THE  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND. 


29 


If  we  attempt  to  govern  ourselves  without 
statesmanship — to  be  a nation  without  a know- 
ledge of  the  country’s  history,  and  of  the  propen- 
sities to  good  and  ill  of  the  people — or  to  fight 
without  generalship,  we  will  fail  in  policy,  so- 
ciety, and  war.  These — all  these  things — we, 
people  of  Ireland,  must  know  if  we  would  be  a 
free,  strong  nation.  A mockery  of  Irish  inde- 
pendence is  not  what  we  want.  The  bauble  of 
a powerless  parliament  does  not  lure  us.  We 
are  not  children.  The  office  of  supplying  Eng- 
land with  recruits,  artizans,  and  corn,  under  the 
benign  interpositions  of  an  Irish  Grand  Jury, 
shall  not  be  our  destiny.  By  our  deep  con- 
viction— by  the  power  of  mind  over  the  people^ 

esay,  No ! 

We  are  true  to  our  colour,  “the  green,’9  and 
true  to  our  watch-word,  “ Ireland  for  the  Irish,’ 
IVe  want  to  win  Ireland  and  keep  it.  If  we  win 
it,  we  will  not  lose  it  nor  give  it  away  to  a 
bribing,  a bullying,  or  a flattering  minister. 
But,  to  be  able  to  keep  it,  and  use  it,  and  govern 
it,  the  men  of  Ireland  must  know  what  it  is, 
what  it  was,  and  what  it  can  be  made.  They 
must  study  her  history,  perfectly  know  her  pre- 
sent state,  physical  and  moral— and  train  them- 
selves up  by  science,  poetry,  music,  industry, 
skill,  and  by  all  the  studies  and  accomplishments 
of  peace  and  war. 

If  Ireland  were  in  national  health,  her  history 
would  be  familiar  by  books,  pictures,  statuary, 
and  music,  to  every  cabin  and  shop  in  the  land— ■ 
her  resources  as  an  agricultural,  manufacturing, 
and  trading  people,  would  be  equally  k no wn— 


30  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESS\V6. 


and  every  young  man  would  be  trained,  and 
every  grown  man  able  to  defend  her  coast,  her 
plains,  her  towns,  and  her  hills — not  with  his 
right  arm  merely,  but  by  his  disciplined  habits  and 
military  accomplishments.  These  are  the  pillars 
of  independence. 

Academies  of  art,  institutes  of  science,  col 
leges  of  literature,  schools  and  camps  of  war  are 
a nation’s  means  for  teaching  itself  strength,  and 
winning  safety  and  honour  ; and  when  we  are  a 
nation,  please  God,  we  shall  have  them  all.  Till 
then,  we  must  work  for  ourselves.  So  far  as  we 
can  study  music  in  societies,  art  in  schools,  lite- 
rature in  institutes,  science  in  our  colleges,  or 
soldiership  in  theory,  we  are  bound  as  good 
citizens  to  learn.  Where  these  are  denied  by 
power,  or  unattainable  by  clubbing  the  re- 
sources of  neighbours,  we  must  try  and  study 
for  ourselves.  We  must  visit  museums  and  anti- 
quities, and  study,  and  buy,  and  assist  books  of 
history  to  know  what  the  country  and  people 
were,  how  they  fell,  how  they  suffered,  and  how 
they  rose  again.  We  must  read  books  of  statis- 
tics— and  let  us  pause  to  regret  that  there  is  no 
work  on  the  statistics  of  Ireland,  except  the 
scarce  lithograph  of  Moreau,  the  papers  in  the 
second  Report  of  the  Railway  Commission  and,  the 
chapters  in  M Culloch's  Statistics  of  the  British 
Umpire — the  Repeal  Association  ought  to  have 
a hand-book  first,  and  then  an  elaborate  and  vast 
account  of  Ireland’s  statistics  brought  out. 

To  resume,  we  must  read  such  statistics  as  we 
have,  and  try  and  get  better  ; and  we  must  get 
the  best  maps  of  the  country — the  Ordnance  and 


TITE  HISTORY  OP  IRELAND. 


County  Index  Maps,  price  2s.  6d.  each,  and  the 
Railway  Map,  price  U. — into  our  Mechanics’ 
Institutes,  Temperance  Reading-rooms,  and 
schools.  We  must,  in  making  our  journeys  of 
business  a*>d  pleasure,  observe  «.-»/*  fo»* 
nature  and  amount  of  the  agriculture,  commerce, 
find  manufactures  of  the  place  we  are  in,  and  ita 
shape,  population,  scenery,  antiquities,  arts, 
music,  dress,  and  capabilities  for  improvement. 
A large  portion  ot  our  people  travel  a great  deal 
within  Ireland,  and  often  return  with  no  know- 
ledge, save  of  the  inns  they  slept  in,  and  ih$ 
traders  they  dealt  with. 

We  must  give  our  children  in  schools  the  best 
knowledge  of  science,  art,  and  literary  elements 
possible.  And  at  home  they  should  see  and  hear 
as  much  of  national  pictures,  music,  poetry,  and 
military  science  as  possible. 

And,  finally,  we  must  keep  our  own  souls,  and 
try,  by  teaching  and  example,  to  lift  up  the  souls 
of  all  our  family  and  neighbours,  to  that  pitch 
of  industry,  courage,  information,  and  wisdom 
necessary  to  enable  an  enslaved,  dark,  and 
starving  people  to  become  free,  and  rich,  and 
rational. 

Well,  as  to  this  National  History — L’Abbe 
MacGeoghegan  published  a history  of  Ireland, 
in  French,  in  3 vols.  quarto,  dedicated  to  the 
Irish  Brigade.  Writing  in  France,  he  was  free 
from  the  English  censorship  ; writing  for  “ The 
Brigade,”  he  avoided  the  impudence  of  Huguenot 
historians.  The  sneers  of  the  Deist  Voltaire, 
and  the  lies  of  the  Catholic  Cambrensis,  receive 
a sharp  chastisement  in  his  preface*  and  a full 


22  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


answer  in  his  text.  He  was  a man  of  the  most 
varied  acquirements  and  an  elegant  writer. 
More  full  references  and  the  correction  of  a 
few  errors  of  detail,  would  render  his  book  more 
satisfactory  to  the  professor  of  history,  but  for 
the  student  it  is  the  best  in  the  world.  He  is 
graphic,  easy,  and  Irish.  He  is  not  a bigot, 
but  apparently  a genuine  Catholic.  His  in- 
formation as  to  the  numbers  of  troops,  and  other 
facts  of  our  Irish  battles,  is  superior  to  any  other 
general  historian’s  ; and  they  who  know  it  well 
need  not  blush,  as  most  Irishmen  must  now,  at 
their  ignorance  of  Irish  history. 

But  the  Association  for  liberating  Ireland  has 
offered  a prize  for  a new  history  of  the  country, 
and  given  ample  time  for  preparation. 

Let  no  man  postpone  the  preparation  who 
hopes  the  prize.  An  original  and  highly-finished 
work  is  what  is  demanded,  and  for  the  com- 
position of  such  a work  the  time  affords  no 
leisure. 

Few  persons,  we  suppose,  hitherto  quite  igno- 
rant of  Irish  history,  will  compete  ; but  we  would 
not  discourage  even  these.  There  is  neither  in 
theory  nor  fact  any  limit  to  the  possible  achieve- 
ments of  genius  and  energy.  Some  of  the  great- 
est works  in  existence  were  written  rapidly,  and 
many  an  old  book-worm  fails  where  a young 
book-thrasher  succeeds. 

Let  us  now  consider  some  of  the  qualities 
fchich  should  belong  to  this  history. 

It  should , in  the  first  place , he  written  from 
the  original  authorities.  We  have  some  notion 
of  giving  a set  of  papers  on  these  authorities,  but 


THE  HISTORY  OjF  IRELAND. 


33 


there  are  reasons  against  such  a course,  and  we 
counsel  no  man  to  rely  on  us — every  one  on 
himself;  besides,  such  a historian  should  rather 
make  himself  able  to  teach  us,  than  need  to  learn 
from  us. 

However,  no  one  can  now  be  at  a loss  to  know 
what  these  authorities  are.  A list  of  the  choicest 
of  them  is  printed  on  the  back  of  the  Volunteer’s 
card  for  this  year,  and  was  also  printed  in  the 
Nation  * These  authorities  are  not  enough  for  a 


* The  following  is  the  list  of  books  given  as  the  pre- 
sent sources  of  history : — 

SOME  OF  THE  ORIGINAL  SOURCES  OF  IRISH  HISTORY. 

ANCIENT  IRISH  TIMES. 

Annals  of  Tigernach,  abbot  of  Clonmacnoise,  from  a.  d. 
200,  to  his  death,  1188,  partly  compiled  from  writer* 
of  the  eighth,  seventh,  and  sixth  centuries. 

Lives  of  St.  Patrick,  St.  Columbanus,  &c. 

Annals  of  Four  Masters,  from  the  earliest  times  to  lf>18 

Other  Annals,  such  as  those  of  Innisfallen,  Ulster,  Boyle, 
&c.  Publications  of  the  Irish  Archaeological  Society 
Danish  and  Icelandic  Annals. 

ENGLISH  INVASION  AND  THE  PALE. 

Gerald  de  Barri,  surnamed  Cambrensis  “ Topography  * 
and  “ Conquest  of  Ireland.”  Four  Masters,  Tracts  in 
Harris’s  Ilibernica.  Campion’s,  Hanmer’s,  Manoo- 
rough’s,  Camden’s,  Holingshed’s,  Stanihurst’s,  and 
Ware’s  Histories.  H*ardiman’s  Statutes  of  Kilkenny. 

Henry  VIII.  and  Elizabeth — Harris’s  Ware.  O’Sulli. 
van’s  Catholic  History.  Four  Masters.  Spencer’s 
View.  Sir  G.  Carew’s  Pacata  Hibernia.  State  Papers, 
Temp.  II.  VIII.  Fyne’s  Morrison’s  Itinerary. 

James  I. — Harris’s  Hibernica.  Sir  John  Davies’  Tracts, 

Charles  I Strafford’s  Letters.  Carte’s  Life  of  Or- 

mond. Lodge’s  Desiderata.  Clarendon’s  Rebellion. 
Tichborne’s  Drogheda.  State  Trials.  Rinunciui*# 


34  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS 


historian.  The  materials,  since  the  Revolution 
especially,  exist  mainly  in  pamphlets,  and  even 
for  the  time  previous  only  the  leading  authori- 
ties are  in  the  list.  The  list  is  not  faulty  in  this, 
as  it  was  meant  for  learners,  not  teachers  ; but 
any  one  using  these  authorities  will  readily  learn 
from  them  what  the  others  are,  and  can  so  track 
out  for  himself. 

There  are,  however,  three  tracts  specially  on 
the  subject  of  Irish  writers.  First  is  Bishop 

Letters.  Pamphlets.  Castlehaven’s  Memoirs.  Clan- 
rickarde’s  Memoirs.  Peter  Walsh.  Sir  J.  Temple. 

Charles  II Lord  Orrery’s  Letters.  Essex’s  Letters. 

James  II.  and  William  III — King’s  State  of  Protestants, 
and  Lesley’s  Answer.  The  Green  Book.  Statutes 
of  James’s  Parliament,  in  Dublin  Magazine,  1843. 
Clarendon’s  Letters.  Rawdon  Papers.  Tracts. 
Molyneux’s  Case  of  Ireland. 

George  I.  and  II — Swift’s  Life.  Lucas’s  Tracts.  How- 
ard’s Cases  under  Popery  Laws.  O’Leary’s  Tracts. 
Boulter’s  Letters.  O’Connor’s  and  Parnell’s  Irish 
Catholics.  Foreman  on  “ The  Brigade.” 

George  III Grattan’s  and  Curran’s  Speeches  and  Lives 

— Memoirs  of  Charlemont.  Wilson’s  Volunteers. 
Barrington’s  Rise  and  Fall.  Wolfe  Tone’s  Memoirs. 
Moore’s  Fitzgerald.  Wyse’s  Catholic  Association. 
Madden’s  United  Irishmen.  Hay,  Teeling,  &c.,  on 
’98.  Tracts.  Mac  Kevin’s  State  Trials.  O’Connell’s 
and  Shed’s  Speeches.  Plnwden’s  History. 
Compilations — Moore.  M"Geoghehan.  Curry’s  Civil 
Wars.  Carey’s  Vindiciss.  O’Connell’s  Ireland.  Le- 
land. 

Current  Authorities — The  Acts  of  Parliament.  Lords’ 
and  Commons’  Journals  and  Debates.  Lynch’s  Legal 
Institutions. 

Antiquities,  Dress,  Arms  — Royal  Irish  Academy’s 
Transactions  and  Museum.  Walker’s  Irish  Bards. 
British  Costume,  in  Library  of  Entertaining  Know* 
ledge. 


THE  HISTORY  or  IRELAND. 


*6 


Nicholson’s  “ Irish  Historical  Library  ” It  gives 
accounts  of  numerous  writers,  but  is  wretchedly 
meagre.  In  Harris’s  “ Hibernica”  is  a short 
tract  on  the  same  subject ; and  in  Harris’s  edi- 
tion of  Ware’s  works  an  ample  treatise  on  Irish 
Writers.  This  treatise  is  moSt  valuable,  but 
must  be  read  with  caution,  as  Ware  was  slightly, 
and  Harris  enormously,  prejudiced  against  the 
native  Irish  and  against  the  later  Catholic  writers. 
The  criticisms  of  Harris,  indeed,  on  all  books 
relative  to  the  Religious  Wars  are  partial  and 
deceptions ; but  we  repeat  that  the  work  is  of 
great  value. 

The  only  more  recent  work  on  the  subject  is  a 
volume  written  by  Edward  O’Reilly,  for  the 
Iberno-Celtic  Society,  on  the  Native  Irish  Poets  ; 
an  interesting  work,  and  containing  morsels  in- 
valuable to  a picturesque  historian. 

By  the  way,  we  may  hope,  that  the  studies  for 
this  prize  history  will  be  fruitful  for  historical 
ballads. 

Too  many  of  the  original  works  can  only  be 
bought  at  an  expense  beyond  the  means  of  most 
of  those  likely  to  compete.  For  instance,  Harris’s 
“Ware.”  Fynes’  “Morrison,”  and  “The  State  Pa- 
pers of  Henry  the  Eighth,”  are  very  dear.  The 
works  of  the  Archaeological  Society  can  only  be 
got  by  a member.  The  price  of  O’Connor’s  “Re- 
rum Hibernicarum  Scriptores  Veteres,”  is  eighteen 
guineas ; and  yet,  in  it  alone,  the  annals  of 
Tigernach,  Boyle,  Innisfallen,  and  the  early 
part  of  the  “ Four  Masters,”  are  to  be  found. 
The  great  majority  of  the  books,  however,  are 
tolerably  cheap  ; some  of  the  dearer  books  might 


36  ZftTERARY  AND  JJISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

be  got  by  combination  among  several  persons,  and 
afterwards  given  to  the  Repeal  Reading-rooms. 

However,  persons  resident  in,  or  able  to  visit 
Dublin,  Cork,  or  Belfast,  can  study  all,  even  the 
scarcest  of  these  works,  without  any  real  difficulty. 

As  to  the  qualities  of  such  a history,  they 
have  been  concisely  enough  intimated  by  the 
Committee. 

It  is  to  be  A History.  One  of  the  most  ab- 
surd pieces  of  cant  going  is  that  against  history, 
because  it  is  full  of  wars,  and  kings,  and  usurpers, 
and  mobs.  History  describes,  and  is  meant  to 
describe,  forces,  not  proprieties — the  mights,  the 
acted  realities  of  men,  bad  and  good — their  his- 
torical importance  depending  on  their  mightiness, 
not  their  holiness.  Let  us  by  all  means  have 
then  a “ graphic”  narrative  of  what  was,  not  a set 
of  moral  disquisitions  on  what  ought  to  have  been. 

Yet  the  man  who  would  keep  chronicling  the 
dry  events  would  miss  writing  a history.  He 
must  fathom  the  social  condition  of  the  peasantry, 
the  townsmen,  the  middle-classes,  the  nobles,  and 
the  clergy  (Christian  or  Pagan,)  in  each  period- 
how  they  fed,  dressed,  armed,  and  housed  them- 
selves. He  must  exhibit  the  nature  of  the  go- 
vernment, the  manners,  the  administration  of 
law,  the  state  of  useful  and  fine  arts,  of  commerce, 
of  foreign  relations.  He  must  let  us  see  the 
decay  and  rise  of  great  principles  and  conditions 
— till  we  look  on  a tottering  sovereignty,  a rising 
creed,  an  incipient  war,  as  distinctly  as,  by  turn- 
ing to  the  highway,  we  can  see  the  old  man,  the 
vigorous  youth,  or  the  infant  child.  He  must 
paint — the  council  robed  in  its  hall  — -the  prieet 


THE  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND. 


37 


In  hifl  temple — the  conspirator — the  outlaw~the 
judge— the  general — the  martyr.  The  arms  must 
clash  and  shine  with  genuine,  not  romantic  like- 
ness ; and  the  brigades  or  clans  join  battle,  or 
divide  in  flight,  before  the  reader’s  thought. 
Above  all,  a historian  should  be  able  to  seize  on 
character,  not  vaguely  eulogising  nor  cursing  ; 
but  feeling  and  expressing  the  pressure  of  a great 
mind  on  his  time,  and  on  after-times. 

Such  things  may  be  done  partly  in  disquisi- 
tions, as  in  Mitchelet’s  “ France  but  they  must 
now  be  done  in  narrative ; and  nowhere,  not 
even  in  Livy,  is  there  a finer  specimen  of  how  all 
these  things  may  be  done  by  narrative  than  in 
Augustine  Thierry’s  “ Norman  Conquest  and 
Merovingian  Scenes.”  The  only  danger  to  be 
avoided  in  dealing  with  so  long  a period  in 
Thierry’s  way  is  the  continuing  to  attach  impor- 
tance to  a once  great  influence,  when  it  has  sunk 
to  be  an  exceptive  power.  He  who  thinks  it 
possible  to  dash  ofl*  a profoundly  coloured  and 
shaded  narrative  like  this  of  Thierry’s  will  find 
himself  bitterly  wrong.  Even  a great  philoso- 
phical view  may  much  more  easily  be  extempo- 
rised than  this  lasting  and  finished  image  of  past 
times. 

The  greatest  vice  in  such  a work  would  be 
bigotry — bigotry  of  race  or  creed.  We  know  a 
descendant  of  a great  Milesian  family  who  sup- 
ports the  Union,  because  he  thinks  the  descen- 
dants of  the  Anglo-Irish — his  ancestors’  foes— < 
would  mainly  rule  Ireland,  were  she  independent* 
The  opposite  rage  against  the  older  races  is  still 
more  usual.  A religious  bigot  is  altogether  unfit, 


S®  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

incurably  unfit,  for  such  a task  ; and  the  writer 
of  such  an  Irish  history  must  feel  a love  for  all 
sects,  a philosophical  eye  to  the  merits  and  de- 
merits of  all,  and  a solemn  and  haughty  impar- 
tiality in  speaking  of  all. 

Need  we  say  that  a history,  wherein  glowing 
oratory  appeared  in  place  of  historical  painting, 
bold  assertion  instead  of  justified  portraiture, 
flattery  to  the  living  instead  of  justice  to  the 
dead,  clever  plunder  of  other  compilers  instead 
of  original  research,  or  a cramped  and  scholastic 
instead  of  an  idiomatic,  “ clear,  and  graphic” 
style,  would  deserve  rejection,  and  would,  we 
cannot  doubt,  obtain  it. 

To  give  such  a history  to  Ireland  as  is  now 
sought,  will  be  a proud  and  illustrious  deed.— 
Such  a work  would  have  no  passing  influence, 
though  its  first  political  effect  would  be  enormous; 
it  would  be  read  by  every  class  and  side  ; for 
there  is  no  readable  book  on  the  subject  ; it 
would  people  our  streets,  and  glens,  and  castles, 
and  abbeys,  and  coasts  with  a hundred  genera- 
tions besides  our  own  ; it  would  clear  up  the 
grounds  of  our  quarrels,  and  prepare  reconcilia- 
tion ; it  would  unconsciously  make  us  recognise 
the  causes  of  our  weakness ; it  would  give  us 
great  examples  of  men  and  of  events,  and  mate- 
rially influence  our  destiny. 

Shall  we  get  such  a history  ? Think,  reader  l 
has  God  given  you  the  soul  and  perseverance  to 
Cieate  this  marvel? 


A3CDENT  IRELAND. 


ANCIENT  IRELAND. 

There  was  once  civilization  in  Ireland.  We 
never  were  very  eminent  to  be  sure  for  manu- 
factures in  metal,  our  houses  were  simple,  our 
very  palaces  rude,  our  furniture  scanty,  our  saf- 
fron shirts  not  often  changed,  and  our  foreign 
trade  small.  Yet  was  Ireland  civilized.  Strange 
thing  ! says  some  one  whose  ideas  of  civilization 
are  identical  with  carpets  and  cut  glass,  fine 
masonry,  and  the  steam-engine ; yet  ’tis  true. 
For  there  was  a time  when  learning  was  en- 
dowed by  the  rich  and  honoured  by  the  poor, 
and  taught  all  over  our  country.  Not  only  did 
thousands  of  natives  frequent  our  schools  and 
colleges,  but  men  of  every  rank  came  here  from 
the  Continent  to  study  under  the  professors  and 
system  of  Ireland,  and  we  need  not  go  beyond 
the  testimonies  of  English  antiquaries,  from  Bede 
to  Camden,  that  these  schools  were  regarded  a® 
the  first  in  Europe.  Ireland  was  equally  remark-* 
able  for  piety.  In  the  Pagan  times  it  was  re- 
garded as  a sanctuary  of  the  Magian  or  Druid 
creed.  From  the  fifth  century  it  became  equally 
illustrious  in  Christendom.  Without  going  into 
the  disputed  question  of  whether  the  Irish  church 
was  or  was  not  independent  of  Rome,  it  is  cer- 
tain that  Italy  did  not  send  out  more  apostles 
from  the  fifth  to  the  ninth  centuries  than  Ireland, 
and  we  find  their  names  and  achievements  re* 
membered  through  the  Continent. 


<10  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAY8. 


Of  two  names  which  Ilallam  thinks  worth  res- 
cuing from  the  darkness  of  the  dark  ages  one  is 
the  Irish  metaphysician,  John  Erigna.  In  a 
recent  communication  to  the  “ Association,”  we 
had  Bavarians  acknowledging  the  Irish  St.Kilian 
as  the  apostle  of  their  country. 

Yet  what  beyond  a catalogue  of  names  and  a 
few  marked  events,  do  even  the  educated  Irish 
know  of  the  heroic  Pagans  or  the  holy  Christians 
of  old  Ireland.  These  men  have  left  libraries  of 
biography,  religion,  philosophy,  natural  history, 
topography,  history,  and  romance.  They  cannot 
all  be  worthless ; yet,  except  the  few  volumes 
given  us  by  the  Archaelogical  Society,  which  of 
their  works  have  any  of  us  read  ? 

It  is  also  certain  that  we  possessed  written 
laws  with  extensive  and  minute  comments  and 
reported  decisions.  These  Brehon  laws  have  been 
foully  misrepresented  by  Sir  John  Davies.  Their 
tenures  were  the  Gavelkind  once  prevalent  over 
most  of  the  world.  The  land  belonged  to  the 
clan,  and,  on  the  death  of  a clansman  his  share 
was  re-apportioned  according  to  the  number  and 
Wants  of  his  family.  The  system  of  erics  or  fines 
for  offences  has  existed  amongst  every  people 
from  the  Hebrews  downwards,  nor  can  any  one 
knowing  the  multitude  of  crimes  now  punishable 
by  fines  or  damages,  think  the  people  of  this  era^ 
pire  justified  in  calling  the  ancient  Irish  barba- 
rous, because  they  extended  the  system.  There 
is  in  these  laws,  so  far  as  they  are  known,  mi- 
nuteness and  equity  ; and,  what  is  a better  test  of 
their  goodness,  we  learn  from  Sir  John  Davies 
himself,  and  from  the  still  abler  Baron  Finglass, 


ANCIENT  IRELAND. 


41 


that  the  people  reverenced,  obeyed,  and  clung 
to  these  laws,  though  to  decide  by  or  obey  them 
was  a high  crime  by  England’s  code.  Moreover, 
the  Norman  and  Saxon  settlers  hastened  to  adopt 
these  Irish  laws,  and  used  them  more  resolutely, 
if  possible,  than  the  Irish  themselves. 

Orderliness  and  hospitality  were  peculiarly  cul- 
tivated. Public  caravansaries  were  built  for  tra- 
vellers in  every  district,  and  we  have  what  would 
almost  be  legal  evidence  of  the  grant  of  vast 
tracts  of  land  for  the  supply  of  provisions  for 
these  houses  of  hospitality.  The  private  hospi- 
tality of  the  chiefs  was  equally  marked,  nor  was 
it  quite  rude.  Ceremony  was  united  with  great 
freedom  of  intercourse  ; age,  and  learning,  and 
rank,  and  virtue  were  respected,  and  these  men 
whose  cookery  was  probably  as  coarse  as  that  of 
Homer’s  heroes,  had  around  their  board  harpers 
and  bards  who  sang  poetry  as  gallant  and  fiery, 
though  not  so  grand  as  the  Homeric  ballad- 
singers,  and  flung  off  a music  which  Greece 
never  rivalled. 

Shall  a people,  pious,  hospitable,  and  brave, 
faithful  observers  of  family  ties,  cultivators  of 
learning,  music,  and  poetry,  be  called  less  than 
civilized,  because  mechanical  arts  were  rude,  and 
u comfort”  despised  by  them  ? 

Scattered  through  the  country  in  MS.,  are 
hundreds  of  books  wherein  the  laws  and  achieve- 
ments, the  genealogies  and  possessions,  the  creeds, 
and  manners  and  poetry  of  these  our  predeces- 
sors in  Ireland  are  set  down.  Their  music  lives 
in  the  traditional  airs  of  every  valley. 

Yet  mechanical  civilization , more  cruel  than 


43  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

time,  is  trying  to  exterminate  them,  and,  there* 
fore,  it  becomes  us  all  who  do  not  wish  to  lose 
the  heritage  of  centuries,  nor  to  feel  ourselves 
living  among  nameless  ruins,  wdien  we  might 
have  an  ancestral  home — it  becomes  all  who  love 
learning,  poetry,  or  music,  or  are  curious  of 
human  progress,  to  aid  in  or  originate  a series 
of  efforts  to  save  all  that  remains  of  the  past. 

It  becomes  them  to  lose  no  opportunity  of  in- 
stilling into  the  minds  of  their  neighbours,  whe- 
ther they  be  corporators  or  peasants,  that  it  is  a 
brutal,  mean,  and  sacrilegious  thing,  to  turn  a 
castle,  a church,  a tomb,  or  a mound,  into  a 
quarry  or  a gravel  pit,  or  to  break  the  least 
morsel  of  sculpture,  or  to  take  any  old  coin  or 
ornament  they  may  find  to  a jeweller,  so  long  as 
there  is  an  Irish  Academy  in  Dublin  to  pay  for 
it  or  accept  it. 

Before  the  year  is  out  we  hope  to  see  A So- 
ciety tor  the  Preservation  of  Irish  Music 
established  in  Dublin,  under  the  joint  patronage 
of  the  leading  men  of  all  politics,  with  branches 
in  the  provincial  towns  for  the  collection  and 
diffusion  of  Irish  airs. 

An  effort — a great  and  decided  one — must  be 
made  to  have  the  Irish  Academy  so  endowed  out 
of  the  revenues  of  Ireland,  that  it  may  be  A Na- 
tional School  of  Irish  History  and  Lite- 
rature and  a Museum  of  Irish  Antiquities, 
on  the  largest  scale.  In  fact,  the  Academy  should 
be  a secular  Irish  College  with  professors  of  our 
old  language,  literature,  history,  antiquities,  and 
topography  ; with  suitable  schools,  lecture-rooms, 
Bnd  museums. 


HISTORICAL.  MONUMENTS  OF  IRELAND.  43 


HISTORICAL  MONUMENTS  OE  IRELAND. 

We  were  a little  struck  the  other  day  in  taking 
up  a new  book  by  Merimee  to  see  after  his  name 
the  title  of  “ Inspector-General  of  the  Historical 
Monuments  of  France.”  So,  then,  France,  with 
the  feeding,  clothing,  protecting,  and  humouring, 
of  36  million  People  to  attend  to,  has  leisure  to 
employ  a Board  and  Inspector,  and  money  to 
pay  them  for  looking  after  the  Historical  Monu- 
ments of  France,  lest  the  Bayeux  tapestry  which 
chronicles  the  conquest  of  England,  or  the 
Amphitheatre  of  Nimes,  which  marks  the  so- 
journ of  the  Romans,  suffer  any  detriment. 

And  has  Ireland  no  monuments  of  her  history 
to  guard,  has  she  no  tables  of  stone,  no  pictures, 
no  temples,  no  weapons  ? Are  there  no  Brehon’s 
chairs  on  her  hills  to  tell  more  clearly  than  Val- 
lancey  or  Davies  howr  justice  was  administered 
here  ? Do  not  you  meet  the  Druid’s  altar,  and 
the  Guebre’s  tower  in  every  barony  almost,  and 
the  Ogham  stones  in  many  a sequestered  spot, 
and  shall  wre  spend  time  and  money  to  see,  to 
guard,  or  to  decipher  Indian  topes,  and  Tuscan 
graves,  and  Egyptian  hieroglyphics,  and  shall 
every  nation  in  Europe  shelter  and  study  the 
remains  of  what  it  once  was,  even  as  one  guards 
the  tomb  of  a parent,  and  shall  Ireland  let  all  go 
to  ruin  ? 

We  have  seen  pigs  housed  in  the  piled  frieser 


44  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

of  a broken  church,  cows  stabled  in  the  palace* 
of  the  Desmonds,  and  corn  threshed  on  the  floor 
of  abbeys,  and  the  sheep  and  the  tearing  wind 
tenant  the  corridors  of  Aileach. 

Daily  are  more  and  more  of  our  crosses  broken, 
of  our  tombs  effaced,  of  our  abbeys  shattered,  of 
our  castles  torn  down,  of  our  cairns  sacrilegiously 
pierced,  of  our  urns  broken  up,  and  of  our  coins 
melted  down.  All  classes,  creeds,  and  politics 
are  to  blame  in  this.  The  peasant  lugs  down  a 
pillar  for  his  sty,  the  farmer  for  his  gate,  the 
priest  for  his  chapel,  the  minister  for  his  glebe. 
A mill-stream  runs  through  Lord  Moore’s  Castle, 
and  the  Commissioners  of  Galway  have  shaken, 
and  threatened  to  remove,  the  Warden’s  house — 
that  fine  stone  chronicle  of  Galway  heroism. 

How  our  children  will  despise  us  for  all  this ! 
Why  shall  we  seek  for  histories,  why  make 
museums,  why  study  the  manners  of  the  dead, 
when  we  foully  neglect  or  barbarously  spoil  their 
homes,  their  castles,  their  temples,  their  colleges, 
their  courts,  their  graves  ? He  who  tramples  on 
the  past  does  not  create  for  the  future.  The 
same  ignorant  and  vagabond  spirit  which  made 
him  a destructive,  prohibits  him  from  creating 
for  posterity. 

Does  not  a man,  by  examining  a few  castles 
and  arms,  know  more  of  the  peaceful  and  warrior 
life  of  the  dead  nobles  and  gentry  of  our  island 
than  from  a library  of  books  ; and  yet  a man  is 
stamped  as  unlettered  and  rude  if  he  does  not 
know  and  value  such  knowledge.  Ware’s  Anti- 
quities, and  Archdall,  speak  not  half  so  clearly 
the  taste,  the  habits,  the  every-day  custorsa  oi 


HISTORICAL  MONUMENTS  OF  IRELAND.  46 

the  monks,  as  Adare  Abbey,  for  the  fine  preser- 
vation of  which  we  owe  so  much  to  Lord  Dun- 
raven. 

The  state  of  civilization  among  our  Scotic  of 
Milesian,  or  Norman,  or  Danish  sires,  is  better 
seen  from  the  Museum  of  the  Irish  Academy, 
and  from  a few  laths,  keeps,  and  old  coast  towns, 
than  from  all  the  prints  and  historical  novels  we 
have.  An  old  castle  in  Kilkenny,  a house  in 
Galway  give  us  a peep  at  the  arts,  the  inter- 
course, the  creed,  the  indoor,  and  some  of  the 
out-door  ways  of  the  gentry  of  the  one,  and  of 
the  merchants  of  the  other,  clearer  than  Scott 
could,  were  he  to  write,  or  Cattermole  were  he 
to  paint  for  forty  years. 

We  cannot  expect  Government  to  do  anything 
so  honourable  and  liberal  as  to  imitate  the  ex- 
ample of  France,  and  pay  men  to  describe  and 
save  these  remains  of  dead  ages.  But  we  do  ask 
it  of  the  Clergy,  Protestant,  Catholic,  and  Dis- 
senting, if  they  would  secure  the  character  of 
men  of  education  and  taste — we  call  upon  the 
gentry,  if  they  have  any  pride  of  blood,  and  on 
the  people  if  they  reverence  Old  Ireland^  to  spare 
and  guard  every  remnant  of  antiquity.  We  ask 
them  to  find  other  quarries  than  churches,  abbeys, 
castles,  and  cairns — to  bring  rusted  arms  to  a 
collector,  and  coins  to  a museum,  and  not  to  iron 
or  gold  smiths,  and  to  take  care  that  others  do 
the  like.  We  talk  much  of  Old  Ireland,  and 
plunder  and  ruin  all  that  remains  of  it — we 
neglect  its  language,  fiddle  with  its  ruins,  and 
bpoil  its  monuments. 


4ft  LITERARY  ncrv  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS* 


IRISH  ANTIQUITIES. 

There  is  on  the  north  (the  left)  bank  of  the 
Boyne,  between  Drogheda  and  Slane,  a pile 
compared  to  which,  in  age,  the  Oldbridge  obe- 
lisk is  a thing  of  yesterday,  and  compared  to 
which,  in  lasting  interest,  the  Cathedrals  of 
Dublin  would  be  trivial.  It  is  the  Temple  of 
Grange.  History  is  too  young  to  have  noted  its 
origin — Archaeology  knows  not  its  time.  It  is  a 
legacy  from  a forgotten  ancestor,  to  prove  that 
he,  too,  had  art  and  religion.  It  may  have 
marked  the  tomb  of  a hero  who  freed,  or  an  in- 
vader who  subdued — a Brian  or  a Strongbow. 
But  whether  or  not  a hero’s  or  a saint’s  bones 
consecrated  it  at  first,  this  is  plain,  it  is  a temple 
of  nigh  two  thousand  years,  perfect  as  when  the 
last  Pagan  sacrificed  within  it. 

It  is  a thing  to  be  proud  of,  as  a proof  of 
Ireland’s  antiquity,  to  be  guarded  as  an  illustra- 
tion of  her  early  creed  and  arts.  It  is  one  of  a 
thousand  muniments  of  our  old  nationality, 
which  a national  government  would  keep  safe. 

What,  then,  will  be  the  reader’s  surprise  and 
anger  to  hear  that  some  people,  having  legal 
power  or  corrupt  influence  in  Meath,  are  getting 
or  have  got  a 'presentment  for  a road  to  run 
right  through  the  Temple  of  Grange  l 

We  do  not  know  their  names,  nor,  if  the  de- 
sign be  at  once  given  up,  as  in  deference  to 


IRISH  ANTIQUITIES. 


47 


public  opinion  it  must  finally  be,  shall  we  take 
the  trouble  to  find  them  out.  But  if  they  persist 
in  this  brutal  outrage  against  so  precious  a land- 
mark of  Irish  history  and  civilization,  then  we 
frankly  say  if  the  law  will  not  reach  them  public 
opinion  shall,  and  they  shall  bitterly  repent  the 
desecration.  These  men  who  design,  and  those 
who  consent  to  the  act,  may  be  Liberals  or  To- 
ries, Protestants  or  Catholics,  but  beyond  a doubt 
they  are  tasteless  blockheads- — poor  devils  without 
reverence  or  education — men  who  as  Wordsworth 
says — 

“ Would  peep  and  botanize 
Upon  their  mothers’  graves.” 

All  over  Europe  the  governments,  the  aristo- 
cracies, and  the  people  have  been  combining  to 
discover,  gain,  and  guard  every  monument  of 
what  their  dead  countrymen  had  done  or  been. 
France  has  a permanent  commission  charged  to 
watch  over  her  antiquities.  She  annually  spends 
more  in  publishing  books,  maps,  and  models,  in 
filling  her  museums  and  shielding  her  monuments 
from  the  iron  clutch  of  time,  than  all  the  roads 
in  Leinster  cost.  It  is  only  on  time  she  needs  to 
keep  watch.  A French  peasant  would  blush  to 
meet  his  neighbour  had  he  levelled  a Gaulish 
t'jhiuy  crammed  the  fair  moulding  of  an  abbey 
into  his  wall,  or  sold  to  a crucible  the  coins 
which  tell  that  a Julius,  a Charlemagne,  or  a 
Philip  Augustus  swayed  his  native  land.  And 
bo  it  is  everywhere.  Republican  Switzerland, 
despotic  Austria,  Prussia,  and  Norway,  Bavaria 
and  Greece,  are  all  equally  precious  of  every- 
thing that  exhibits  the  architecture,  sculpture* 


48  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

rites,  dress,  or  manners  of  their  ancestors — -nay, 
each  little  commune  would  guard  with  arm, 
these  local  proofs  that  they  were  not  men  of  yes- 
terday. And  why  should  not  Ireland  be  as  pre- 
cious of  its  ruins,  its  manuscripts,  its  antiqu- 
vases,  coins,  and  ornaments,  as  these  French 
and  German  men — nay  as  the  English,  for  they, 
too,  do  not  grudge  princely  grants  to  their  mu- 
seums, and  restoration  funds. 

This  island  has  been  for  centuries  either  in 
part  or  altogether  a province.  Now  and  then 
above  the  mist  we  see  the  wheel  of  Sarsfield’s 
sword,  the  red  battle-hand  of  O’Neil,  and  the 
points  of  O’Connor’s  spears ; but  ’tis  a view 
through  eight  hundred  years  to  recognise  the 
Sunburst  on  a field  of  liberating  victory.  Rec- 
koning back  from  Clontarf,  our  history  grows 
ennobled  (like  that  of  a decayed  house),  and  we 
see  Lismore  and  Armagh  centres  of  European 
learning  ; we  see  our  missionaries  seizing  and 
taming  the  conquerors  of  Europe,  and,  farther 
still,  rises  the  wizard  pomp  of  Eman,  and  Tara — 
the  palace  of  the  Irish  Pentarchy.  And  are  we, 
the  people  to  whom  the  English  (whose  fathers 
were  painted  savages,  when  Tyre  and  Sidon 
traded  with  this  land)  can  address  reproaches  for 
our  rudeness  and  irreverence  ? So  it  seems.  The 
Athcnceum  says : — 

“ It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  the  society  lately 
established  in  England,  having  for  its  object  the  preser- 
vation of  British  antiquities,  did  not  extend  its  design 
over  those  of  the  sister  island,  which  are  daily  becoming 
fewer  and  fewer  in  number.  That  the  gold  ornaments 
which  are  so  frequently  found  in  various  parts  of  Ireland 
should  be  melted  down  for  the  sake  of  the  very  purg 


IRISH  ANTIQUITIES, 


49 


gold  of  which  they  are  Composed,  is  scarcely  surprising » 
but  that  carved  stones  and  even  immense  druidical  re- 
mains should  be  destroyed  is,  indeed,  greatly  to  be 
lamented.  At  one  of  the  late  meetings  of  the  Royal 
Irish  Academy  a communication  was  made  of  the  in- 
tention of  the  proprietor  of  the  estate  at  New  Grange, 
to  destroy  that  most  gigantic  relic  of  druidical  times, 
which  has  justly  been  termed  the  Irish  pyramid,  merely 
because  its  vast  size  ‘ cumbereth  the  ground.’  At  Mel- 
lifont  a modern  corn-mill  of  large  size  has  been  built  out 
of  the  stones  of  the  beautiful  monastic  buildings,  some 
of  which  still  adorn  that  charming  spot.  At  Monaster- 
boice,  the  churchyard  of  which  contains  one  of  the 
finest  of  the  round  towers,  are  the  ruins  of  two  of  the 
little  ancient  stone  Irish  churches,  and  three  most  ela- 
borately carved  stone  crosses,  eighteen  or  twenty  feet 
high.  The  churchyard  itself  is  overrun  with  weeds,  the 
sanctity  of  the  place  being  its  only  safeguard.  At  Clon- 
macnoise,  where,  some  forty  years  ago,  several  hundred 
inscriptions  in  the  ancient  Irish  character  were  to  be  seen 
upon  the  gravestones,  scarcely  a dozen  (and  they  the 
least  interesting)  are  now  to  be  found — the  large  flat 
stones  on  which  they  were  carved  forming  excellent 
slabs  for  doorways,  the  copings  of  walls,  &c.  ! It  was 
the  discovery  of  some  of  these  carved  stones  in  such  a 
situation  which  had  the  effect  of  directing  the  attention 
of  Mr.  Petre  (.then  an  artist  in  search  of  the  pictu- 
resque, but  now  one  of  the  most  enlightened  and  con- 
scientious of  the  Irish  antiquaries)  to  the  study  of  an- 
tiquities ; and  it  is  upon  the  careful  series  of  drawings 
made  by  him  that  future  antiquarians  must  rely  for  very 
much  of  ancient  architectural  detail  now  destroyed.  As 
to  Glendalough,  it  is  so  much  a holiday  place  for  the 
Dubliners  that  it  is  no  wonder  everything  portable  has 
disappeared.  Two  or  three  of  the  seven  churches  are 
levelled  to  the  ground — all  the  characteristic  carvings 
described  by  LedwicL,  and  which  were  ‘ quite  unique  in 
Ireland , ’ are  gone.  Some  were  removed  and  used  as 
key-stones  for  the  arches  of  Derrybawn-bridge.  Part  of  the 
churchyard  has  been  cleared  of  its  gravestones,  and  forma 
a famous  place,  where  the  villagers  play  at  ball  against 
the  old  walls  of  the  church.  The  little  church,  called 


50  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


‘ St.  Kevin’s  Kitchen,*  is  given  up  to  the  sheep,  ami  thft 
font  lies  in  one  corner,  and  is  used  for  the  vile«t  pur- 
poses. The  abbey  church  is  choked  up  with  trees  and 
brambles,  and  being  a little  out  of  the  way  a very  few 
of  the  carved  stones  still  remain  there,  two  of  the  most 
interesting  of  which  I found  used  as  coping-stones  to  the 
wall  which  surrounds  it.  The  connexion  between  the 
ancient  churches  of  Ireland  and  the  north  of  England 
renders  the  preservation  of  the  Irish  antiquities  espe- 
cially interesting  to  the  English  antiquarian  ; and  it  is  with 
the  hope  of  drawing  attention  to  the  destruction  of  those 
ancient  Irish  monuments  that  I have  written  these  few 
lines.  The  Irish  themselves  are,  unfortunately,  so  en- 
grossed with  political  and  religious  controversies,  that  it 
can  scarcely  be  hoped  that  singlehanded  they  will  be 
roused  to  the  rescue  even  of  these  evidences  of  their  for- 
mer national  greatness.  Besides,  a great  obstacle  ex- 
ists against  any  interference  with  the  religious  antiqui- 
ties of  the  country,  from  the  strong  feelings  entertained 
by  the  people  on  the  subject,  although  practically , as  we 
have  seen,  of  so  little  weight.  Let  us  hope  that  the 
public  attention  directed  to  these  objects  will  have  a be- 
neficial result  and  insure  a greater  share  of  ‘justice  to 
Ireland;’  for  will  it  be  believed  that  the  only  establish- 
ment in  Ireland  for  the  propagation  and  diffusion  of  sci- 
entific and  antiquarian  knowledge — the  Royal  Irish  Aca- 
demy— receives  annually  the  munificent  sum  of  £300 
from  the  government ! And  yet,  notwithstanding  this 
pittance,  the  members  of  that  society  have  made  a step 
in  the  right  direction  by  the  purchase  of  the  late  Dean 
©f  St.  Patrick’s  Irish  Archaeological  Collection,  of  which 
a fine  series  of  drawings  is  now  being  made  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  academy,  and  of  which  they  would,  doubt- 
less, allow  copies  to  be  made,  so  as  to  obtain  a return  of 
a portion  of  the  expense  to  which  they  are  now  subjected. 
Small,  moreover,  as  the  collection  is,  it  forms  a strik- 
ing contrast  with  our  own  National  Museum,  which,  rich  in 
foreign  antiquities,  is  almost  without  a single  object  of 
native  archaeological  interest,  if  we  except  the  series  of 
English  and  Anglo-Saxon  coins  and  MSS.” 

The  Catholic  clergy  were  long  and  naturally 


IRISH  ANTIQUITIES. 


51 


the  guardians  of  our  antiquities,  and  many  of 
their  archaeological  works  testify  their  prodigious 
learning.  Of  late,  too,  the  honourable  and  wise 
reverence  brought  back  to  England  has  reached 
the  Irish  Protestant  clergy,  and  they  no  longer 
make  antiquity  a reproach,  or  make  the  maxims 
of  the  iconoclast  part  of  their  creed. 

Is  it  extravagant  to  speculate  on  the  possibility 
of  the  Episcopalian,  Catholic,  and  Presbyterian 
clergy  joining  in  an  Antiquarian  Society  to  pre- 
serve our  ecclesiastical  remains — our  churches, 
our  abbeys,  our  crosses,  and  our  fathers’  tombs, 
from  fellows  like  the  Meath  road-makers.  It 
would  be  a politic  and  a noble  emulation  of  the 
sects,  restoring  the  temples  wherein  their  sires 
worshipped  for  their  children  to  pray  in.  There’s 
hardly  a barony  wherein  we  could  not  find  an 
old  parish  or  abbey  church,  capable  of  being  re- 
stored to  its  former  beauty  and  convenience  at 
a less  expense  than  some  beastly  barn  is  run  up, 
as  if  to  prove  and  confirm  the  fact  that  we  have 
little  art,  learning,  or  imagination. 

Nor  do  we  see  why  some  of  these  hundreds  of 
half-spoiled  buildings  might  not  be  used  for  civil 
purposes — as  alms-houses,  schools,  lecture-rooms, 
town-halls.  It  would  always  add  another  grace 
to  an  institution  to  have  its  home  venerable  with 
age  and  restored  to  beauty.  We  have  seen  men 
of  all  creeds  join  the  Archaeological  Society  to 
preserve  and  revive  our  ancient  literature.  Why 
may  we  not  see,  even  without  waiting  for  the  aid 
of  an  Irish  Parliament,  an  Antiquarian  Society, 
equally  embracing  the  chief  civilians  and  divines, 
and  charging  itself  with  the  duties  performed  in 


52  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

France  by  the  Commission  of  Antiquities  and 
Monuments  ? 

The  Irish  antiquarians  of  the  last  century  ditf 
much  good.  They  called  attention  to  the  history 
and  manners  of  our  predecessors  which  we  had 
forgotten.  They  gave  a pedigree  to  nationhood, 
and  created  a faith  that  Ireland  could  and  should 
be  great  again  by  magnifying  what  she  had  been* 
They  excited  the  noblest  passions — veneration, 
love  of  glory,  beauty,  and  virtue.  They  awoke 
men’s  fancy  by  their  gorgeous  pictures  of  the 
past,  and  magination  strove  to  surpass  them  by 
its  creations.  They  believed  what  they  wrote, 
and  thus  their  wildest  stories  sank  into  men’s 
minds.  To  the  exertions  of  Walker,  O’Halloran, 
Vallancey,  and  a few  other  Irish  academicians 
in  the  last  century,  we  owe  almost  all  the  Irish 
knowledge  possessed  by  our  upper  classes  till 
very  lately.  It  was  small,  but  it  was  enough  to 
give  a dreamy  renown  to  ancient  Ireland ; and  if 
it  did  nothing  else  it  smoothed  the  reception  of 
Bunting’s  music,  and  identified  Moore’s  poetry 
with  his  native  country. 

While,  therefore,  we  at  once  concede  that 
Vallancey  was  a bad  scholar,  O’Halloran  a cre- 
dulous historian,  and  Walker  a shallow  anti- 
quarian, we  claim  for  them  gratitude  and  at- 
tachment, and  protest,  once  for  all,  against  the 
indiscriminate  abuse  of  them  now  going  in  our 
educated  circles. 

But  no  one  should  lie  down  under  the  belief 
that  they  were  the  deep  and  exact  men  their 
cotemporaries  thought  them.  They  were  not 
patient  nor  laborious.  They  were  very  graceful, 


IRISH  ANTIQUITIES, 


63 


very  fanciful,  and  often  very  wrong  in  their 
statements  and  their  guesses.  How  often 
avoided  painful  research  by  gay  guessing  we  are 
only  now  learning.  (J’Halloran  and  Keatinge 
have  told  us  bardic  romances  with  the  same  tone 
as  true  chronicles.  Vallancey  twisted  language, 
towers,  and  traditions  into  his  wicker-work 
theory  of  Pagan  Ireland  ; and  Walker  built  great 
facts  and  great  blunders,  granite  blocks  and 
rotten  wood,  into  his  antiquarian  edifices.  One 
of  the  commonest  errors,  attributing  immense 
antiquity,  oriental  origin,  and  everything  noble 
in  Ireland,  to  the  Milesians,  originated  with  these 
men  ; or,  rather,  was  transferred  from  the  adula- 
tory songs  of  clan-bards  to  grave  stories.  Now, 
it  is  quite  certain  that  several  races  flourished 
here  before  the  Milesians,  and  that  every  thing 
Oriental,  and  much  that  was  famous  in  Ireland, 
belonged  to  some  of  these  elder  races,  and  not  to 
the  Scoti  or  Milesians. 

Premising  this  much  of  warning  and  defence 
as  to  the  men  who  first  made  anything  of  ancient 
Ireland  known  to  the  mixed  nation  of  modern 
Ireland,  we  turn  with  true  pleasure  to  their 
successors,  the  antiquarians  and  historians  of  our 
own  time. 

We  liked  for  awhile  bounding  from  tussach  to 
tussach,  or  resting  on  a green  esker  in  the  domain 
of  the  old  academicians  of  Grattan’s  time ; uut 
• tis  pleasanter,  after  all,  to  tread  the  firm  ^r'-’nd 
of  our  own  archaeologists. 


64  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


THE  SEA  KINGS.0 

These  Sea  Kings  were  old  friends  and  old  foes 
of  Ireland.  History  does  not  reach  back  to  the 
age  in  which  ships  passed  not  between  Ireland 
and  Scandinavia.  It  seems  highly  probable  that 
the  Milesians  themselves — that  Scotic  (or  Scy- 
thian) race  who  gave  our  isle  the  name  of  Scotia 
Major — reached  our  shore,  having  sailed  from 
the  Baltic.  They  were  old  Sea  Kings. 

So  were  the  Jutes,  or  Getae,  who  came  under 
Hengist  and  Horsa  to  England  in  the  fifth 
century,  and  received  the  isle  of  Thanet  as  a 
reward  for  repelling  the  Irish  invaders ; and,  not 
content  with  this  pay,  used  their  saxes  (or  short 
swords.)  from  whence  we  name  them  Saxons,  till 
all  the  east  of  England  obeyed  them.  So,  too, 
were  the  Danes,  who  conquered  that  same  Eng- 
land over  again  in  the  tenth  century.  So  were 
the  Black  and  White  Strangers,  who  held  our 
coast  and  ravaged  our  inland  till  Brien  of  Tho- 
mond  trampled  their  raven  at  Clontarf  on  the 
23d  of  April,  1014.  And  the  Normans  them- 
selves, too,  were  of  that  self-same  blood. 

Mr.  Laing  has  given  us  fresh  materials  for 
judging  the  race  so  related  to  Ireland.  He  has 

* The  Hemskringla,  or  Chronicle  of  the  Kings  of  Nor. 
way,  translated  from  the  Icelandic  of  Snorro  Sturlescc, 
with  a preliminary  dissertation  by  Samuel  Laing,  Esq 

3 vols. 


THE  SEA  KINGS. 


53 


translated  the  greatest  of  their  histories,  and  pre- 
faced it  by  an  account  of  the  creed,  literature, 
and  social  condition  of  the  Scandinavians. 

There  are  strong  reasons  for  believing  that 
these  people  came  from  the  east,  through  Mus- 
covy, and  preferring  the  fish-filled  bays  and 
game-filled  hills  of  Norway  and  Sweden  to  the 
flat  plains  of  Germany,  settled  far  north.  Such 
is  the  tradition  of  the  country  and  the  expressed 
opinion  of  all  their  writers.  The  analogy  of  their 
language  to  the  Sanscrit,  their  polygamy  and 
their  use  of  horse-flesh,  all  tend  to  prove  that 
they  were  once  an  equestrian  tribe  in  Upper 
Asia. 

However  this  may  be,  we  find  them,  from 
remote  times,  living  in  the  great  Peninsula  of  the 
North.  Their  manners  were  simple  and  hardy, 
and  their  creed  natural.  The  Cimbri,  or  Kymry, 
whom  Marius  encountered,  and  the  Milesians, 
both  apparently  from  Scandia,  showed  equal 
valour,  though  not  with  the  same  fortune. 

Their  paganism  was  grand,  though  dark. 
Idolaters  they  were,  but  idolatry  is  but  an  out- 
ward sign.  The  people  who  bow  to  a stone  have 
got  a notion  of  a god  beyond  it.  That  this 
northern  paganism  originated  in  the  natural 
custom  of  all  people  to  express  their  belief  in 
some  soul  mightier  and  better  than  their  soul— 
some  ruler  of  the  storm  and  the  sun — we  may 
agree  with  Mr.  Laing.  But  surely  he  is  wrong 
in  jumping  from  this  to  a denial  of  Hero-worship, 
Nothing  seems  more  likely,  nothing  in  mythology 
is  better  proved,  than  that  this  feeling  took  the 
shape  of  reverence  for  the  soul  of  some  dead  chiel 


56  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


who  had  manifested  superior  might.  Time  would 
obscure  his  history  and  glorify  his  attributes  till 
he  became  a demi-god. 

The  pagan  gods  rarely  seem  to  be  absolute 
deities.  Behind  the  greatest  in  renown  of  these 
hero-gods  lurks  some  Fate  or  Wisdom  whose 
creature  he  is. 

The  materials  for  the  mythology  of  the  Scan- 
dians  are,  according  to  Mr.  Laing,  very  small. 
The  principal  work  is  the  older  Edda,  composed 
by  Scemund.  Of  this  there  are  only  three  frag- 
ments : — 

‘ The  one  is  called  the  ‘ Voluspa,*  or  the  Prophecy  of 
Vola.  In  the  Scotch  words  ‘ spoe-wife,’  and  in  the  Eng- 
lish word  4 spy,*  we  retain  words  derived  from  the  same 
root,  and  with  the  same  meaning,  as  the  word  ‘ spa’  of 
the  Voluspa.  The  second  fragment  is  called  ‘ Havamal,* 
or  the  High  Discourse ; the  third  is  the  Magic,  or  Song 
of  Odin.  The  Voluspa  gives  an  account  by  the  pro- 
phetess of  the  actions  and  operations  of  the  gods ; a de- 
scription of  chaos ; of  the  formation  of  the  world ; of 
giants,  men,  dwarfs ; of  a final  conflagration  and  disso- 
lution of  all  things ; and  of  the  future  happiness  of  the 
good,  and  punishment  of  the  wicked.  The  Havamal  is 
a collection  of  moral  and  economical  precepts.  The 
song  of  Odin  is  a collection  of  stanzas  in  celebration  of 
his  magic  powers.  The  younger  Edda,  composed  120 
years  after  the  older,  by  Snorro  Sturleson,  is  a commen- 
tary upon  the  Voluspa ; illustrating  it  in  a dialogue  be- 
tween Gylfe,  the  supposed  contemporary  of  Odin,  under 
the  assumed  name  of  Gangir,  and  three  divinities — Har 
(the  High),  Jafnhar  (equal  to  the  High),  and  Triddj 
(the  Third) — at  Asgard  (the  abode  of  the  gods,  or  the 
original  Asiatic  seat  of  Odin)  to  which  Gylfe  had  gone 
to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  superiority  of  the  Asiatics. 
Both  the  Eddas  appear  to  have  been  composed  as  hand- 
books to  assist  in  understanding  the  names  of  the  gods, 
and  the  illusions  to  them  in  the  poetry  of  the  Scalda 


THE  SEA  KINGS' 


57 


Hot  to  illustrate  the  doctrine  of  the  religion  of  Odin. 
The  absurd  and  the  rational  are  consequently  mingled. 
Many  sublime  conceptions,  and  many  apparently  bor- 
rowed by  Saemund  and  Snorro  from  Christianity— as  for 
instance  the  Trinity  with  which  Gangir  converses — are 
mixed  with  fictions  almost  as  puerile  as  those  of  the  clas- 
sical mythology.  The  genius  of  Snorro  Sturleson  shines 
even  in  these  fables.  In  the  grave  humour  with  which 
the  most  extravagantly  gigantic  feats  of  Thor  and  Ut- 
gaard  are  related  and  explained,  Swift  himself  is  not  more 
happy ; and  one  would  almost  believe  that  Swift  had  the 
adventures  of  Thor  and  the  giant  Utgaard  Loke  before 
him  when  he  wrote  of  Brobdignac.  The  practical  forms 
or  modes  of  worship  in  the  religion  of  Odin  are  not  to  be 
discovered  from  the  Eddas,  nor  from  the  sagas  which  the 
two  Eddas  were  intended  to  illustrate.  It  is  probable 
that  much  has  been  altered  to  suit  the  ideas  of  the  age 
in  which  they  were  committed  to  writing,  and  of  the  scribe9 
who  compiled  them.  Christianity  in  Scandinavia  seems, 
in  the  1 1 th  century,  to  have  consisted  merely  in  the  cere- 
mony of  baptism,  without  any  instruction  in  its  doc- 
trines.” 

The  priesthood  consisted  of  the  descendants  of 
the  twelve  diars  or  goddars,  who  accompanied 
Odin  from  Asia;  but  they  were  judges  as  well  as 
priests.  Their  temples  were  few,  small,  and 
rude.  Their  chief  religious  festivals  were  three 
in  number.  The  first  possesses  a peculiar  in- 
terest for  us.  It  was  called  Yule  from  one  of 
Odin’s  names,  though  held  in  honour  of  Thor, 
the  supreme  god  of  the  Scandians.  Occurring  in 
mid-winter  it  became  mixed  with  the  Christmas 
festival,  and  gave  its  name  thereto.  The  other 
festivals  were  in  honour  of  the  goddess  Friggia 
^pronounced  Freva,)  and  of  Odin  or  Woden,  the 
demigod  or  prophet.  From  these  deit;  js>  our 
Wednesday,  Thursday,  and  Friday  take  their 
names.  The  Valhalla,  or  heaven  of  these  Pagans, 


88  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


reserved  for  warriors,  free  from  women,  and 
Abounding  in  beer  and  metheglin,  is  sufficiently 
known. 

Centuries  after  Christianity  had  been  received 
by  their  neighbours  these  Pagans  held  to  Odinism, 
and  Pagans  they  were  when,  in  the  9th  century, 
their  great  colonies  went  out. 

The  spread  of  the  Northmen  at  that  time  came 
to  pass  in  this  way.  Along  the  broken  coast  of 
the  Northern  peninsula  reigned  a crowd  of  in- 
dependant chiefs,  who  lived  partly  on  fishing  and 
hunting,  but  much  more  by  piracy. 

In  the  beginning  of  the  9th  century  their  ex- 
peditions became  formidable.  The  north,  and 
finally  the  whole  of  England,  was  overrun,  and 
it  took  the  genius  of  Alfred,  Edmund,  and  Athel- 
stane  to  deliver  it  even  for  a time.  Ireland  suf- 
fered hardly  less.  Some  of  these  rovers  even 
penetrated  the  Mediterranean,  and  Charlemagne 
is  said  to  have  wept  at  the  sight  of  those  galleys 
laden  with  wrath.  The  achievements  of  one  of 
them,  Regner  Lodbrog,  have  been  as  nobly  de- 
scribed in  an  Icelandic  poem  as  anything  Homer 
wrote  of  the  Sea  Kings  of  Greece  who  warred 
against  Troy. 

So  powerful  abroad,  they  paid  slight  allegiance 
to  the  King  of  Norway.  At  length,  about  870, 
King  Harald  Haarfager  (or  the  Fair  Haired) 
resolved  to  stop  their  iniquities,  or  at  least  to  free 
his  own  dominions  from  them.  In  a series  of 
wars  he  subdued  these  sea  kings,  and  forbade 
piracy  on  his  coast  or  isles.  Thus  debarred  from 
their  old  life  at  home  they  went  out  in  still  greater 
colonies  than  before* 


THE  SEA  KINGS. 


59 


One  of  these  colonies  was  led  by  Rolf,  who 
was  surnamed  Gan’gr,  or  the  Walker,  as  from 
his  great  stature  he  could  get  no  horse  to  carry 
him,  and  walked  with  his  followers.  Sailing 
south  they  entered  the  Seine,  took  Rouen,  be* 
sieged  Paris,  and  finally  extorted  from  Charles 
the  Bald  that  tract  to  which  they  gave  the  name 
of  Normandy.  But  these  events  took  many  years. 

Other  bands  came  to  the  aid  of  their  friends 
in  England,  Ireland,  and  the  Scotch  Isles,  while 
a large  and  illustrious  colony  went  to  Iceland. 

In  that  land  of  snow  they  found  fish  and  game. 
They  abandoned  piracy  and  became  merchants, 
trading  through  the  whole  west  of  Europe.  Nor 
did  they  remain  at  this  side  of  the  Atlantic. 
Sailing  north-west,  they  occupied  Greenland, 
and  visited  some  more  southerly  part  of  America, 
which  they  called  Yinland. 

But  still  a higher  honor  belongs  to  the  Ice- 
landers. They  were  the  most  famous  Scalds  or 
Bards  who  spoke  the  Norse  tongue.  Amongst 
the  earliest  institutions  of  the  North  were  the 
laws  of  Gravelkind,  and  a strict  entail  of  lands. 
Lands  could  not  be  sold  or  devised,  the  next  of 
blood  took  them  in  equal  shares.  It  was,  there- 
fore, of  great  value  to  preserve  a knowledge  of 
relationship,  and  this  office  fell  to  the  literary 
class  or  Scalds.  There  was  no  law  limiting  the 
bardic  office  to  natives  of  Iceland,  yet,  in  fact, 
t^eir  superior  skill  won  such  an  eminence  for 
them  that  an  Icelandic  scald  was  as  needed  in 
every  Norse  settlement,  from  Rouen  to  Dron- 
theim,  as  an  Irish  saint  was  in  every  part  of 
Christian  Europe. 


60  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


Mr.  Laing  prints  a list  of  about  200  Norse 
histories,  romances,  &c.  Originally,  it  seems 
their  sagas  were  oral,  and  it  was  not  till  the  12tlr 
century  that  any  progress  was  made  in  transfer- 
ring  them  to  writing.  The  reader  of  Mr.  Laing’s 
details  will  be  struck  by  many  facts  like  those 
used  in  the  controversy  as  to  whether  the  Iliad 
was  a collection  of  ballads,  or  an  originally  single 
work. 

It  seems  that  there  is  no  manuscript  saga  older 
than  the  end  of  the  1 4th  century  in  existence. 

With  his  usual  heartiness,  Mr.  Laing  defends 
the  Norsemen  through  thick  and  thin.  In  his 
opinion  the  best  parts  of  the  English  constitution 
are  due  to  them.  He  describes  the  Saxons  as 
cowardly  and  slavish  devotees  when  these  gallant 
and  free  Pagans  came  in  and  renewed  their 
vigour.  The  elective  judges,  and  officers,  and 
juries  he  traces  to  the  Danes ; and  in  the  Things 
or  popular  assemblietvof  these  Northmen  he  finds 
the  origin  of  English  parliaments.  Nor  would 
he  have  us  judge  them  by  the  report  of  trembling 
monks  who  wrote  Latin  invectives  and  invoca- 
tions against  them,  while  through  the  window  of 
their  transcribing  room  they  could  see  the  home- 
stead blaze  and  the  Raven  soar. 

In  this  part  of  his  case  he  seems  rather  suc- 
cessful. The  writings  of  the  Anglo-Saxons 
were  a few  dry  chronicles  in  Latin  ; while  the 
Northmen  had  an  endless  mass  of  histories  and 
popular  ballads.  But  even  here  he  is  in  excess. 
He  seems  forgetful  of  the  Saxon  ballads  of  Bru- 
nanburgh,  of  Beowulf,  and  many  others.  If  we 
can  trust  our  recollections,  or  Thierry's  quota- 


THE  SEA  KINGS, 


61 


tiocs,  there  are  many  touching  and  lofty  passages 
even  in  those  old  Latin  Chronicles. 

His  proof  of  the  knowledge  of  the  useful  arts 
possessed  by  the  Northmen  is  very  ingeniousr 
It  rests  on  the  account  of  their  shipping.  One 
ship  is  described  as  being  as  large  as  a 40-gun 
frigate.  To  make  vessels  so  large  and  efficient 
as  even  their  smaller  ships  required  skill  in  work- 
ing timber,  in  raising,  smelting,  and  preparing 
iron,  masts,  sails,  ropes,  and  anchors  for  suck 
ships ; and  the  necessity  of  coopering  water  ves- 
sels, and  salting  meat  for  long  voyages,  imply  the 
existence  of  several  arts. 

The  amount  of  knowledge  of  countries  and 
men,  sure  to  be  acquired  in  their  giant  piracies, 
should  also  be  remembered. 

He  is  very  exclusive  in  his  advocacy.  So  far 
from  sanctioning  the  claim  of  the  Teutonic  race 
to  general  superiority  over  the  Celts,  he  treats  it 
as  “ the  echo  of  the  bray”  first  heard  in  the 
Ossianic  controversy. 

“ The  black  hair,  dark  eye,  and  dusky  skin  of  the 
small-sized  Celt,  were  considered  by  those  philosophers 
to  indicate  an  habitation  for  souls  less  gifted  than  those 
which  usually  dwell  under  the  yellow  hair,  blue  eye,  and 
fair  skin  of  the  bulky  Goth.  This  conceit  has  been  re- 
vived of  late  in  Germany,  and  in  America ; and  people 
talk  of  the  superiority  of  the  Gothic,  Germanic,  or  An- 
glo-Saxon race,  as  if  no  such  people  had  ever  existed  as 
the  Romans,  the  Spaniards,  the  French — no  such  men  as 
Caesar,  Buonaparte,  Cicero,  Montesquieu,  Cervantes, 
Ariosto,  Raphael,  Michael  Angelo.  If  the  superiority 
they  claim  were  true,  it  would  be  found  not  to  belong  at 
all  to  that  branch  of  the  one  great  northern  race  which 
is  called  Teutonic,  Gothic,  Germanic,  or  Anglo-Saxon— 
for  that  branch  in  England  was,  previous  to  the  settle- 


62  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


merits  of  the  Danes  or  Northmen  in  the  10th  or  11th 
centuries,  and  is  at  this  day  throughout  all  Germany, 
morally  and  socially  degenerate,  and  all  distinct  aiP 
tinguishing  spirit  or  nationality  in  it  dead  ; but  to  thQ 
small  cognate  branch  of  the  Northmen  or  Danes,  who, 
between  the  9th  and  12th  centuries  brought  their  Pagair 
ism,  energy,  and  social  institutions,  to  bear  against,  con- 
quer, mingle  with,  and  invigorate  the  priest-ridden,  in- 
ert, descendants  of  the  old  Anglo-Saxon  race.” 

Mr.  Laing’s  translation  comes  fresh  and  racy. 
He  seems  to  like  the  ship-building,  and  roving, 
and  fighting.  Cast  a few  centuries  earlier,  he 
had  made  a famous  Viking.  Notwithstanding 
his  Benthamite  notions,  his  heart  is  strong  and 
natural,  and  he  relishes  vigorous  humanity  wher- 
ever it  is  found. 


THE  ROUND  TOWERS  OF  IRELAND. 

Accustomed  from  boyhood  to  regard  these  towers 
as  revelations  of  a gorgeous,  but  otherwise  un- 
defined antiquity — dazzled  by  oriental  analogies— 
finding  a refuge  in  their  primeval  greatness  from 
the  meanness  or  the  misfortunes  of  our  middle 
ages,  we  clung  to  the  belief  of  their  Pagan  origin 
In  fancy,  we  had  seen  the  white-robed  Druid 
tend  the  holy  fire  in  their  lower  chambers — had 
measured  with  the  Tyrian-taught  astronomer  the 
length  of  their  shadows — and  had  almost  knelt 
to  the  elemental  worship  with  nobles  whose  robes 
had  the  dye  of  the  Levant,  and  sailors  whost* 

• The  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy.  VoL 
XX.  Dublin : Hodges  and  Smith.  Grafton-street 


THE  ROUND  TOWERS  OP  IRELAND.  63 

cheeks  were  brown  with  an  Egyptian  sun,  and 
soldiers  whose  bronze  arms  clashed  as  the  trum- 
pets from  the  tower- top  said,  that  the  sun  had 
risen.  What  wonder  that  we  resented  the  attempt 
to  cure  us  of  so  sweet  a frenzy  ? 

We  plead  guilty  to  having  opened  Mr.  Petrie’s 
work  strongly  bigoted  against  his  conclusion. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  could  not  forget  the 
authority  of  the  book.  Its  author,  we  knew, 
was  familiar  beyond  almost  any  other  with  the 
country — had  not  left  one  glen  unsearched,  not 
one  island  untrod  ; had  brought  with  him  the 
information  of  a life  of  antiquarian  study,  a 
graceful  and  exact  pencil,  and  feelings  equally 
national  and  lofty.  We  knew,  also,  that  he  had 
the  aid  of  the  best  Celtic  scholars  alive  in  the 
progress  of  his  work.  The  long  time  taken  in 
its  preparation  ensured  maturity  ; and  the  honest 
men  who  had  criticised  it,  and  the  adventurers 
who  had  stolen  from  it  enough  to  make  false  re- 
putations, equally  testified  to  its  merits. 

Yet,  we  repeat,  we  jealously  watched  for  flaws 
in  Mr.  Petrie’s  reasoning ; exulted,  as  he  set 
down  the  extracts  from  his  opponents,  in  the 
hope  that  he  would  fail  in  answering  them,  and 
at  last  surrendered  with  a sullen  despair. 

Looking  now  more  calmly  at  the  discussion, 
we  are  grateful  to  Mr.  Petrie  for  having  driven 
away  an  idle  fancy.  In  its  stead  he  has  given  us 
new  and  unlooked-for  trophies,  and  more  solid 
information  on  Irish  antiquities  than  any  of  his 
predecessors.  We  may  be  well  content  to  hand 
over  the  Round  Towers  to  Christians  of  the  sixtk 
or  the  tenth  century  when  we  Tad  that  these 


64  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

Christians  were  really  eminent  in  knowledge  afl 
well  as  piety,  had  arched  churches  by  the  side 
of  these  campanilia , gave  an  alphabet  to  the 
Saxons,  and  hospitality  and  learning  to  the  stu- 
dents of  all  western  Europe — and  the  more 
readily,  as  we  get  in  exchange  proofs  of  a Pagan 
race  having  a Pelasgic  architecture,  and  the 
arms  and  ornaments  of  a powerful  and  cultivated 
people. 

The  volume  before  us  contains  two  parts  of 
Mr.  Petrie’s  essay.  The  first  part  is  an  exami- 
nation of  the  false  theories  of  the  origin  of  these 
towers.  The  second  is  an  account  not  only  of 
what  he  thinks  their  real  origin,  but  of  every 
kind  of  early  ecclesiastical  structure  in  Ireland. 
The  third  part  will  contain  a historical  and  de- 
scriptive account  of  every  ecclesiastical  building 
in  Ireland  of  a date  prior  to  the  Anglo-Norman 
invasion  of  which  remains  now  exist.  The  work 
is  crowded  with  illustrations  drawn  with  wonder 
ful  accuracy,  and  engraved  in  a style  which 
proves  that  Mr.  O’Hanlon,  the  engraver,  has  be- 
come so  proficient  as  hardly  to  have  a superior 
in  wood-cutting. 

We  shall  for  the  present  limit  ourselves  to  the 
first  part  of  the  work  on  the 

u ERRONEOUS  THEORIES  WITH  RESPECT  TO  THE 
ORIGIN  AND  USES  OF  THE  ROUND  TOWERS. 

The  first  refutation  is  of  the 

14  THEORY  OF  THE  DANISH  ORIGIN  OF  TUX 
TOWERS.” 

John  Lynch,  in  his  C amir  ensis  Ever susi  Baja 


THE  ROUND  TOWERS  OF  IRELAND.  65 

that  the  Danes  are  reported  ( dicuntur ) to  hava 
first  erected  the  Round  Towers  as  wezteA-towers, 
but  that  the  Christian  Irish  changed  them  into 
clock  or  bell- towers.  Peter  Walsh  repeated  and 
exaggerated  the  statement ; and  Ledwich,  the 
West  British  antiquary  of  last  century,  com- 
bined it  with  lies  enough  to  settle  his  character, 
though  not  that  of  the  Towers.  The  only  per- 
son, at  once  explicit  and  honest,  who  supported 
this  Danish  theory  was  Dr.  Molyneux.  His  ar- 
guments are,  that  all  stone  buildings,  and  indeed 
all  evidences  of  mechanical  civilization,  in  Ire- 
land were  Danish  ; that  some  traditions  attri- 
buted the  Round  Towers  to  them  ; that  they  had 
fit  models  in  the  monuments  of  their  own  coun- 
try ; and  that  the  word  by  which  he  says,  the 
native  Irish  call  them,  viz.,  “ Clogachd,”  comes 
from  the  Teutonic  root,  clugga,  a bell.  These 
arguments  are  easily  answered. 

The  Danes,  so  far  from  introducing  stone 
architecture,  found  it  flourishing  in  Ireland,  and 
burned  and  ruined  our  finest  buildings,  and  de- 
stroyed mechanical  and  every  kind  of  civilization 
wherever  their  ravages  extended — doin£  thus  in 
Ireland  precisely  as  they  did  in  France  and 
England,  as  all  annals  (their  own  included) 
testify.  Tradition  does  not  describe  the  towers 
as  Danish  watch-towers,  but  as  Christian  bel- 
fries. The  upright  stones  and  the  little  barrows, 
not  twelve  feet  high,  of  Denmark,  could  neither 
give  models  nor  skill  to  the  Danes.  They  had 
much  ampler  possession  of  England  and  Scot- 
land, and  permanent  possession  of  Normandy, 
but  never  a Round  Tower  did  they  erect  therei 


66  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

and,  finally,  the  native  Irish  name  for  a Round 
Tower  is  cloic-theacli , from  teach , a house,  and 
cloc , the  Irish  word  used  for  a bell  in  Irish 
works  before  “ the  Germans  or  Saxons  had 
churches  or  bells,”  and  before  the  Danes  had 
ever  sent  a war-ship  into  our  seas. 

We  pass  readily  from  this  ridiculous  hypothesis 
with  the  remark,  that  the  gossip  which  attributes 
to  the  Danes  our  lofty  monumental  pyramids  and 
cairns,  our  Druid  altars,  our  dry  stone  caisils  or 
keeps,  and  our  raths  or  fortified  enclosures  for 
the  homes  or  cattle  of  our  chiefs,  is  equally  and 
utterly  unfounded  ; and  is  partly  to  be  accounted 
for  from  the  name  of  power  and  terror  which 
these  barbarians  left  behind,  and  partly  from 
ignorant  persons  confounding  them  with  the  most 
illustrious  and  civilized  of  the  Irish  races — the 
Danaans. 

THEORY  OF  THE  EASTERN  ORIGIN  OF  THE  ROUND 
TOWERS. 

Among  the  middle  and  upper  classes  in  Ireland 
the  Round  Towers  are  regarded  as  one  of  the 
results  of  an  intimate  connexion  between  Ireland 
and  the  East,  and  are  spoken  of  as  either  1,  Fire- 
Temples  ; 2,  Stations  from  whence  Druid  festi- 
vals were  announced  ; 3,  Sun  dials  (gnomons) 
and  astronomical  observatories;  4,  Buddhist  or 
Phallic  temples,  or  two  or  more  of  these  uses 
are  attributed  to  them  at  the  same  time. 

Mr.  Petrie  states  that  the  theory  of  the  Phoe- 
nician or  Indo-Scythic  origin  of  these  towers  was 
stated  for  the  first  time  so  recently  as  1772  by 
General  Vallancey. in  his  “Essay  on  theAntiquity 


the  Hound  towers  of  Ireland.  67 

of  the  Irish  Language,”  and  was  re-asserted  by 
him  in  many  different  and  contradictory  form* 
in  his  “ Collectanea  de  Rebus  Hibernicis,”  pub- 
lished at  intervals  in  the  following  years. 

It  may  be  well  to  premise  who 

GENERAL  CHARLES  VALLANCEY 

was.  His  family  were  from  Berry  in  France ; 
their  name  Le  Brun,  called  de  Valencia,  from 
their  estate  of  that  name.  General  Vallancey  was 
born  in  Flanders,  but  was  educated  at  Eton  Col- 
lege. When  a Captain  in  the  12th  Royal  In- 
fantry he  was  attached  to  the  engineer  depart- 
ment in  Ireland,  published  a book  on  Field  En- 
gineering in  1756,  and  commenced  a survey  of 
Ireland.  During  this  he.  picked  up  something  of 
the  Irish  language,  and  is  said  to  have  studied 
it  under  Morris  O’Gorman,  clerk  of  Mary’s-lane 
chapel.  He  died  in  his  house,  Lower  Mount- 
street,  18th  August,  1812,  aged  82  years. 

His  “ Collectanea”  and  his  discourses  in  the 
Royal  Irish  Academy,  of  which  he  was  an  ori- 
ginal member,  spread  far  and  wide  his  oriental 
theories.  He  was  an  amiable  and  plausible  man, 
but  of  little  learning,  little  industry,  great  bold- 
ness, and  no  scruples ; and  while  he  certainly 
stimulated  men’s  feelings  towards  Irish  antiqui- 
ties, he  has  left  us  a re-producing  swarm  of  false- 
hood, of  which  Mr.  Petrie  has  happily  begun 
*he  destruction.  Perhaps  nothing  gave  Vallan- 
cey’s  follies  more  popularity  than  the  opposition 
of  the  Rev.  Edward  Ledwich,  whose  “ Anti* 
quities  of  Ireland”  is  a mass  of  falsehoods,  did* 
paraging  to  the  people  and  the  country. 


LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

EJRE  TEMPLES. 

Vallancey’s  first  analogy  is  plausible.  The 
Irish  Druids  honoured  the  elements  and  kept  up 
sacred  fires,  and  at  a particular  day  in  the  year 
all  the  fires  in  the  kingdom  were  put  out,  and 
had  to  be  re-lighted  from  the  Arch-Druid’s 
fire.  A similar  creed  and  custom  existed  among 
the  Parsees  or  Guebres  of  Persia,  and  he  takes 
the  resemblance  to  prove  connexion  and  identity 
of  creed  and  civilization.  From  this  he  imme- 
diately concludes  the  Round  Towers  to  be  Fire 
Temples.  Now,  there  is  no  evidence  that  the 
Irish  Pagans  had  sacred  fires,  except  in  open 
spaces  (on  the  hill  tops),  and,  therefore,  none  of 
course  that  they  had  them  in  towers  round  or 
square  ; but  Vallancey  falls  back  on  the  alleged 
existence  of  Hound  Towers  m the  East  similar 
to  ours , and  on  etymology 

Here  is  a specimen  of  his  etymologies.  The 
Hebrew  word  gadul  signifies  great , and  thence 
a tower  ; the  Irish  name  for  a round  tower, 
cloghad , is  from  this  gadul  or  gad  and  clogh , a 
stone  : and  the  Druids  called  every  place  of  wor- 
ship cloghad.  To  which  it  is  answered — gadu.\ 
is  not.  gad — clogh , a stone , is  not  clogh , a hell ,— 
the  Irish  word  fora  Round  Tower  is  cloch-thack * 
or  bell-house,  and  there  is  no  proof  that  the 
Druids  called  any  place  of  worship  cloghad. 

Vallancey’s  guesses  are  numerous,  and  nearly 
all  childish,  and  we  shall  quote  some  finishing 
specimens,  with  Mr.  Petrie’s  answers  : — 

“ This  is  apother  characteristic  example  of  Vallancey’s 
fiaode  of  quoting  authorities ; he  first  makes  O’Brien  say 


THE  ROUND  TOWERS  OF  IRELAND#  69 

that  Cuilceach  becomes  corruptly  Claiceacli , and  then  that 
the  word  seems  to  be  corrupted  Clog-theach.  But  O’Brien 
does  not  say  that  Cuilceach  is  corruptly  Claiceach , nor 
has  lie  the  word  Culkak  or  Claiceach  in  his  book ; nei- 
ther does  he  say  that  Cuilceach  seems  to  be  a corruption 
of  Clog-theach , but  states  positively  that  it  is  so.  The 
following  are  the  passages  which  Vallancey  h s so  mis- 
quoted and  garbled : — 

‘ Ciulceach,  a steeple,  cuilceach,  Clu  m-umba, 
Cloyne  steeple — This  word  is  a corruption  of  Clog- 
theach. 

‘ Cloig-theach,  a steeple,  a belfry  ; corrupte  Cuilg- 
theach.’ 

“ Our  author  next  tells  us  that  another  name  for  the 
Round  Towers  is  Sibheit , Sithbheit , and  Sithbhein , and 
for  this  he  refers  us  to  O’Brien’s  and  Shaw’s  Lexicons ; 
but  this  quotation  is  equally  false  with  those  I have  al- 
ready exposed,  for  the  words  Sibheit  and  Sithbheit  are 
not  to  be  found  in  either  of  the  works  referred  to.  The 
word  Sithbhe  is,  indeed,  given  in  both  Lexicons,  but 
explained,  a city,  not  a round  tower.  The  word  Sith- 
bhein is  also  given  in  both,  but  explained  a fort,  a tur- 
ret, and  the  real  meaning  of  the  word  as  still  understood 
in  many  parts  of  Ireland,  is  a fairy  hill,  or  hill  of  the 
fairies,  and  is  applied  to  a green  round  hill  crowned  by 
a small  sepulchral  mound. 

“ He  next  tells  us  that  Caiceach , the  last  name  he  finds 
for  the  Round  Towers,  is  supposed  by  the  Glossarists  to 
be  compounded  of  cui , a house,  and  teach  a house,  an 
explanation,  which,  he  playfully  adds,  is  tautology  with 
a witness.  But  where  did  he  find  authority  for  the  word 
Caiceach  f I answer,  nowhere ; and  the  tautology  he 
speaks  of  was  either  a creation  or  a blunder  of  his  own. 
It  is  evident  to  me  that  the  Glossarist  to  whom  he  refers 
is  no  other  than  his  favourite  Cormac ; but  the  latter 
makes  no  such  blunder,  as  will  appear  from  the  passage 
which  our  author  obviously  refers  to  ; — 

* Cai  i.  teach  unde  dicitur  ceard  cha  i.  teach  cearda ; 
creas  cha  i.  teach  cumanq.* 

1 Cai,  i.  e.  a house  ; unde  dicitur  ceard-cha , *.  e.  th« 
house  of  the-  artificer  ; creas-cha , t.  €•  a narrow 
house.’  ” 


70  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

The  reader  has  probably  now  had  enough  of 
Vallancey’s  etymology,  but  it  is  right  to  add 
that  Mr.  Petrie  goes  through  every  hint  of  such 
proof  given  by  the  General,  and  disposes  of  them 
with  greater  facility. 

The  next  person  disposed  of  is  Mr.  Beauford, 
who  derives  the  name  of  our  Round  Towers  from 
Tlacht , earth — asserts  that  the  foundations  of 
temples  for  Vestal  fire  exist  in  Rath-na-Kmhain, 
and  other  places  (poor  devil !) — that  the  Persian 
Magi  overran  the  world  in  the  time  of  the  great 
Constantine,  introducing  Round  Towers  in  place 
of  the  Vestal  mounds  into  Ireland,  combining 
their  fire-worship  with  our  Druidism — and  that 
the  present  Towers  were  built  in  imitation  of 
these  Magian  Towers.  This  is  all,  as  Mr.  Petrie 
says,  pure  fallacy,  without  a particle  of  autho- 
rity ; but  we  should  think  “ twelfth ” is  a mis- 
print for  “ seventh ” in  the  early  part  of  Beau- 
ford’s  passage,  and,  therefore,  that  the  last  clause 
of  Mr.  Petrie’s  censure  is  undeserved. 

This  Beauford  is  not  to  be  confounded  with 
Miss  Beaufort.  She,  too,  paganizes  the  Towers 
by  aggravating  some  mis-statements  of  Mason’s 
Parochial  Survey ; but  her  errors  are  not  worth 
notice,  except  the  assertion  that  the  Psalters  of 
Tara  and  Cashel  allege  that  the  Towers  were  for 
keeping  the  sacred  fire.  These  Psalters  are  be  • 
lieved  to  have  perished,  and  any  mention  o i 
sacred  fires  in  the  glossary  of  Cormac  M‘Cull©» 
nan,  the  supposed  compiler  of  the  Psalter  ol 
Cashel,  is  adverse  to  their  being  in  Towers.  Hu 
caya— 

“ jBelltune,  i.  e.  hi!  tene , i.  e.  tenebil,  i.  e.  the  goodly* 


THE  ROUND  TOWERS  OF  IRELAND,  71 

Are,  t.  e.  two  goodly  fires,  which  the  Druids  were  used 
to  make,  with  great  incantations  on  them,  and  they  used 
to  bring  the  cattle  between  them  against  the  diseases  of 
each  year.’* 

Another  MS.  says — 

“ Belt aine,  i.  e.  Bel-dine  : Bel  was  the  name  of  an  idol; 
it  was  on  it  (*.  e.  the  festival)  that  a couple  of  the  young 
of  every  cattle  were  exhibited  as  in  the  possession  ol 
Bel ; unde  Beltine.  Or,  Beltine , i.  e.  Bil-tine , ».  e. 
the  goodly  fire,  i.  e , two  goodly  fires,  which  the  Druids 
were  used  to  make  with  great  incantations,  and  they 
were  used  to  drive  the  cattle  between  them  against  the 
diseases  of  each  year.’* 

Mr.  Petrie  continues — 

“It  may  be  remarked,  that  remnants  of  this  ancient 
custom,  in  perhaps  a modified  form,  still  exist  in  the 
May  fires  lighted  in  the  streets  and  suburbs  of  Dublin, 
and  also  in  the  fires  lighted  on  St.  John’s  Eve,  in  all  other 
parts  of  Ireland.  The  Tinne  Eigen  of  the  Highlands,  of 
which  Dr.  Martin  gives  the  following  account,  is  pro- 
bably a remnant  of  it  also,  but  there  is  no  instance  of 
such  fires  being  lighted  in  towers  or  houses  of  any  de- 
scription : — 

4 The  Inhabitants  here  (Tsle  of  Skye)  did  also  make 
use  of  a Eire  call’d  Tin-Byin  (i.  e.)  a forced  Eire,  or 
Fire  of  necessity,  which  they  used  as  an  Antidote  against 
the  Plague  or  Murrain  in  Cattle  ; and  it  was  performed 
thus  : — All  the  Fires  in  the  Parish  were  extinguish’d, 
and  eighty  one  marry ’d  Men,  being  thought  the  necessary 
number  for  effecting  this  Design,  took  two  great  Planks 
of  Wood,  and  nine  of  ’em  were  employ’d  by  turns,  who 
by  their  repeated  Efforts  rubb’d  one  of  the  Planks  against 
the  other  until  the  Heat  thereof  produced  Eire ; and 
from  this  forc’d  Fire  each  Family  is  supplied  with  new 
Fire,  which  is  no  sooner  kindled,  than  a Pot  full  of 
water  is  quickly  set  on  it,  and  afterwards  sprinkled  upon 
the  People  infected  with  the  Plague,  or  upon  cattle  that 
have  the  Murrain.  And  this,  they  all  say,  they  find 
successful  by  Experience.’ — Description  of  the  Western 
Islands  of  Scotland — (second  edition,)  n.  113. 


73  LITER  A Ilf  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

•*  A?  authority  for  Miss  Beaufort’s  second  pvSsertion,  re* 
lative  to  the  Tower  of  Thlachtga,  &c.,  we  are  referred 
to  the  Psalter  of  Tara,  by  Comerford,  (p.  41,)  cited  in 
the  Parochial  Survey  (vol.  iii.  p.  320)  , and  certainly  in 
the  latter  work  we  do  find  a passage  in  nearly  the  same 
words  which  Miss  Beaufort  uses.  But  if  the  lady  had 
herself  referred  to  Comerford’s  little  work,  she  would 
have  discovered  that  the  author  of  the  article  in  the  Pa - 
rochial  Survey  had  in  reality  no  authority  for  his  asser- 
tions, and  had  attempted  a gross  imposition  on  the  cre- 
dulity of  his  readers.” 

Mr.  D’Alton  relies  much  on  a passage  in 
Cambrensis , wherein  he  says  that  the  fishermen 
on  Lough  Neagh  (a  lake  certainly  formed  by  an 
inundation  in  the  first  century — a.  d.  62)  point 
to  such  towers  under  the  lake ; but  this  only 
shows  they  were  considered  old  in  Cambrensis1 
time  (King  John’s)  for  Chambrensis  calls  them 
turres  ecclesiastic  as  { a Christian  appellation) ; and 
the  fishermen  of  every  lake  have  such  idle  tra- 
ditions from  the  tall  objects  they  are  familiar 
with ; and  the  steeples  of  Antrim,  &c.,  were 
handy  to  the  Loch  N-Eathach  men. 

One  of  the  authorities  quoted  by  all  the  Pa- 
ganists  is  from  the  “ Ulster  Annals”  at  the  year 
448;  it  is,  “ Ingenti  terremotu  per  loca  varia 
imminente  plurime  urbes  auguste  muri  recenti 
adhuc  re-edificatione  construct!,  cum  LYII.  tur- 
ribus  corruerant.”  This  was  made  to  mean  that 
part  of  the  wall  of  Armagh,  with  fifty-seven 
Round  Towers,  fell  in  an  earthquake  in  448, 
rhereas  the  passage  turns  out  to  be  a quotation 
from  “ Marcellinus”  of  the  fall  of  part  of  the  de- 
fences of  Constantinople — “ Urbis  Augustas!” 

References  to  Towers  in  Irish  annals  are  quoted 


THE  ROUND  TOWERS  OF  IRELAND*  73 

by  Mr  D’Alton  ; but  they  turn  out  to  be  written 
about  the  Cyclopean  Forts,  or  low  stone  raths, 
euch  as  we  find  at  Aiieach,  &c. 

CELESTIAL  INDEXES. 

Dr.  Charles  O’Connor,  of  Stowe,  is  the  chief 
supporter  of  the  astronomical  theory.  One  of  his 
arguments  is  founded  on  the  mistaken  reading  of 
the  word  “ turaghun ” (which  he  derives  from  tur 
a tower,  and  aghan , or  adhan , the  kindling  of 
flame),  instead  of  “ truaghan”  an  ascetic.  The 
only  other  authority  of  his  which  we  have  not 
noticed  is  the  passage  in  the  “ Ulster  Annals,” 
at  the  year  995,  in  which  it  is  said  that  certain 
Fidhnemead  were  burnt  by  lightning  at  Armagh. 
He  translates  the  word  celestial  indexes,  and 
paraphrases  it  Round  Towers,  and  all  because 
fiadh  means  witness,  and  neimhedh  heavenly  or 
sacred,  the  real  meaning  being  holy  wood,  or 
wood  of  the  sanctuary,  from  Jidh  a wood,  and 
neimhedh  holy,  as  is  proved  by  a pile  of  exact 
authorities. 

Dr.  Lanigan,  in  his  ecclesiastical  history,  and 
Moore,  in  his  general  history,  repeat  the  argu- 
ments which  we  have  mentioned.  They  also 
bring  objections  against  the  alleged  Christian 
origin,  which  we  hold  over ; but  it  is  plain  that 
nothing  prevailed  more  with  them  than  the 
alleged  resemblance  of  these  towers  to  certain 
oriental  buildings.  Assuredly,  if  there  were  a 
close  likeness  between  the  Irish  Round  Towers 
and  oriental  fire  temples  of  proved  antiquity,  it 
would  be  an  argument  for  identity  of  use ; and 
though  direct  testim^y  from  our  annals  would 


74  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


come  in  and  show  that  the  present  Towers  wer« 
built  as  Christian  belfries  from  the  cixtli  to  the 
tenth  centuries,  the  resemblance  would  at  least 
I indicate  that  the  belfries  had  been  built  after 
the  model  of  Pagan  fire  towers  previously  exist- 
ing here.  But  “ rotundos  of  above  thirty  feet  in 
diameter”  in  Persia,  Turkish  minarets  of  the 
tenth  or  fourteenth  centuries,  and  undated  tur- 
rets in  India,  which  Lord  Yalentia  thought  like 
our  Round  Towers,  give  no  such  resemblance. 
We  shall  look  anxiously  for  exact  measurements 
and  dates  of  oriental  buildings  resembling  Round 
Towers,  and  weigh  the  evidence  which  may  be 
offered  to  show  that  there  were  any  Pagan  models 
for  the  latter  in  Ireland  or  in  Asia. 

Mr.  Windele,  of  Cork,  besides  using  all  the 
previously-mentioned  arguments  for  the  Pagan- 
ism of  these  Towers,  finds  another  in  the  sup- 
posed resemblance  to 

THE  NURAGGIS  OF  SARDINIA, 
which  are  tombs  or  temples  formed  in  that  island, 
and  attributed  to  the  Phoenicians.  But,  alas! 
for  the  theory — they  have  turned  out  to  be  “ as 
broad  as  they’re  long.”  A square  building,  57 
feet  in  each  side,  with  bee-hive  towers  at  each 
angle,  and  a centre  bee-hive  tower  reaching  t<r 
45  or  65  feet  high,  with  stone  stairs,  is  sadly  un- 
like a round  tower ! 

The  most  recent  theory  is,  that  the  Round 
Jowers  are 

HERO-MONUMENTS. 

Mr.  Windele  and  the  South  Munster  Antique 


THE  ROUND  TOWERS  OF  IRELAND.  75 

rian  Society  started  this,  Sir  William  Betham 
sanctioned  it,  and  several  rash  gentlemen  dug 
under  Towers  to  prove  it.  At  Cashel,  Kinsale, 
&c.,  they  -satisfied  themselves  that  there  were  no 
sepulchres  or  bones  ever  under  the  Towers,  but 
in  some  other  places  they  took  the  rubbish  bones 
casually  thrown  into  the  Towers,  and  in  two 
cases  the  chance  underlying  of  ancient  burying- 
grounds,  as  proofs  of  this  notion.  But  Mr.  Petrie 
settles  for  this  idea  by  showing  that  there  is  no 
such  use  of  the  Round  Towers  mentioned  in  our 
annals,  and  also  by  the  following  most  interest- 
ing account  of  the  cemeteries  and  monuments  of 
all  the  races  of  Pagan  Irish 

HISTORY  OF  THE  CEMETERIES. 

“ A great  king  of  great  judgments  assumed  the  sove- 
reignty of  Erin,  i.  e.  Cormac,  son  of  Art,  son  of  Conn 
of  the  Hundred  Battles.  Erin  was  prosperous  in  his 
time,  because  just  judgments  were  distributed  through- 
out it  by  him ; so  that  no  one  durst  attempt  to  wound 
a man  in  Erin  during  the  short  jubilee  of  seven  years  ; 
for  Cormac  had  the  faith  of  the  one  true  God,  according 
to  the  law  ; for  he  said  that  he  would  not  adore  stones, 
or  trees,  but  that  he  would  adore  Him  who  had  made 
them,  and  who  had  power  over  all  the  elements,  i.  e . 
the  one  powerful  God  who  created  the  elements ; in  Him 
he  would  believe.  And  he  was  the  third  person  who 
had  believed,  in  Erin,  before  the  arrival  of  St.  Patrick. 
Conchobor  MacNessa,  to  whom  Altus  had  told  concern- 
ing the  crucifixion  of  Christ  was  the  first ; Morann,  the 
fcon  of  Cairbre  Cinncait  (who  was  surnamed  Mac  Main, 
was  the  second  person ; and  Cormac  was  the  third ; and 
it  is  probable  that  others  followed  on  their  track  ih  this 
belief. 

“ Where  Cormac  held  his  court  was  at  Tara,  in  imita- 
tion of  the  kings  who  preceded  him,  until  his  eye  wta 
destroyed  by  Engus  Gaibhuaiphnech,  the  son  of  Eoch- 


76  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAY*. 

aidh  Finn  Fuathairt : but  afterwards  he  resided  at  Ac&iH 
(the  hill  on  which  Serin  Colaim  Cille  is  at  this  day,)  and 
at  Cenannas  (Kells, ) and  at  the  house  of  Cletech  ; for  it 
was  not  lawful  that  a king  with  a personal  blemish  should 
reside  at  Tara.  In  the  second  year  after  the  injuring  of 
his  eye  he  came  by  his  death  at  the  house  of  Cletech 
the  bone  of  a salmon  having  stuck  in  his  throat.  And 
he  (Corinac)  told  his  people  not  to  bury  him  at  Brugh 
(because  it  was  a cemetery  of  Idolaters,)  for  he  did  not 
worship  the  same  God  as  any  of  those  interred  at  Brugh  , 
but  to  bury  him  at  Ros  na  righ,  with  his  face  to  the  east 
He  afterwards  died,  and  his  servants  of  trust  held  a 
council,  and  came  to  the  resolution  of  burying  him  at 
Brugh,  the  place  where  the  kings  of  Tara,  his  prede- 
cessors,  were  buried.  The  body  of  the  king  was  after- 
wards thrice  raised  to  be  carried  to  Brugh,  but  the  Boyne 
swelled  up  thrice,  so  as  that  they  could  not  come ; so  that 
they  observed  that  it  was  ‘ violating  the  judgment  of  a 
prince’  to  break  through  this  Testament  of  the  king, 
and  they  afterwards  dug  his  grave  at  Ros  na  righ,  as  he 
himself  had  ordered. 

“These  were  the  chief  cemeteries  of  Erin  before  the 
Faith  (t.  e.  before  the  introduction  of  Christianity,)  viz. 
Cruachu,  Brugh,  Tailltin,  Luachair,  Ailbe,  Oenach 
Ailbe,  Oenach  Culi,  Oenach  Colmain,  Temhair  Erann. 

“Oenach  Cruachan,  in  the  first  place,  it  was  there  the 
race  of  Heremon,  i.  e.  the  kings  of  Tara,  were  used  to 
bury  until  the  time  of  Cremhthann,  the  son  of  Lughaidh 
Riabh-n-derg,  (who  was  the  first  king  of  them  that  was 
interred  at  Brugh),  viz.,  Cobhlhach  Coelbregh,  and 
Labhraidh  Loingsech,  and  Eocho  Fedhlech  with  his 
three  sons  (*.  e.  the  three  Fidhemhna,  i.  e.  Bres,  Nar, 
and  Lothor),  and  Eocho  Airemh,  Lughaidh  Riabh-n* 
derg,  the  six  daughters  of  Eocho  Fedhlech  (*.  e.  Medhbh, 
and  Clothru,  Muresc,  and  Drebriu,  Mugain,  and  Ele), 
and  Adill  Mac  Mada  with  his  seven  brothers  (t.  e.  Cet, 
Anion,  Doche,  et  ceteri ),  and  all  the  kings  down  to 
Cremhthann  (these  were  all  buried  at  Cruachan).  Why 
fras  it  not  at  Brugh  that  the  kings  (of  the  race  of  Cobli- 
thach  down  to  Crimhthann)  were  interred?  Not  dif- 
ficult ; because  the  two  provinces,  which  the  race  d 
Heremon  possessed  were  the  province  of  Gailian  (i.  «. 


THE  ROUND  TOWERS  OF  IRELAND.  77 

the  province  of  Leinster),  and  the  province  of  Olnec- 
macht  (t.  e.  the  province  of  Connaught).  In  the  first 
place  the  province  of  Gailian  was  occupied  by  the  race 
of  Labhraidh  Loingsech,  and  the  province  of  Connaught 
was  the  peculiar  inheritance  of  the  race  of  Cobhtach 
Coelbregh;  wherefore  it  (i.  e.  the  province  of  Con- 
naught) was  given  to  Medhbh  before  every  other  pro- 
vince. (The  reason  that  the  government  of  this  land 
was  given  to  Medhbh  is,  because  there  was  none  of  the 
race  of  Eochaidh  fit  to  receive  it  but  herself,  for  Lug- 
haidh  was  not  fit  for  action  at  the  time.)  And  when- 
ever, therefore,  the  monarchy  of  Erin  was  enjoyed  by 
any  of  the  descendants  of  Cobhthach  Coelbregh,  the 
province  of  Connaught  was  his  ruidles  (t.  e.  his  native 
principality).  And  for  this  reason  they  were  interred  at 
Oenach  na  Cruachna.  But  they  were  interred  atBrugh 
from  the  time  of  Crimhthann  (Niadh-nar)  to  the  time  of 
Loeghaire,  the  son  of  Niall,  except  three  persons, 
namely,  Art,  the  son  of  Conn,  and  Cormac,  the  son  of 
Art,  and  Niall  of  the  Nine  Hostages. 

“We  have  already  mentioned  the  cause  for  which  Cor- 
mac wras  not  interred  there.  The  reason  why  Art  was 
not  interred  there  is,  because  he  ‘ believed,  * the  day 
before  the  battle  of  Muccramma  was  fought,  and  he 
predicted  the  Faith,  (t.  e.,  that  Christianity  would  pre- 
vail in  Erin,)  and  he  said  that  his  own  grave  would  be 
at  Dumha  Dergluachra,  where  Treoit  [Trevet]  is  at  this 
day,  as  he  mentioned  in  a poem  which  he  composed — 
viz.,  Cain  do  denna  den , (i.  e a poem  which  Art  com- 
posed, the  beginning  of  which  is  Cain  do  denna  den , 
&c.)  When  his  (Art’s)  body  was  afterwards  carried 
eastwards  to  Dumha  Dergluachra,  if  all  the  men  of 
Erin  were  drawing  it  thence,  they  could  not,  so  that  he 
was  interred  in  that  place,  because  there  was  a Catho- 
lic church  to  be  afterwards  at  the  place  where  he  was 
interred  (i*.  e.,  Treoit  hodie ) because  the  truth  and  the 
Faith  had  been  revealed  to  him  through  his  regal 
righteousness. 

“Where  Niall  was  interred  was  at  Ochain,  whence  the 
hill  was  called  Ochain,  i.  e.  Och  Caine,  i.  e.  from  the 
sighing  and  lamentation  which  the  men  of  Erin  made  is 
Lunenting  NialL 


78  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


“Conaire  More  was  interred  at  Magh  Feci  in  Brcgia 
ft.  e.  at  Fert  Conaire)  ; however  some  say  that  it  was 
Couaire  Carpraige  was  interred  there,  and  not  Conaire 
Mor,  and  that  Conaire  Mor  was  the  third  king  who  was 
interred  at  Tara,  viz.  Conaire,  Loeghaira,  and  * * 

“At  Tailltin  the  kings  of  Ulster  were  used  to  bury,  viz. 
OUamh  Fodhla,  with  his  descendants  down  to  Conchob- 
har,  who  wished  that  he  should  be  carried  to  a place  be-, 
tween  Slea  and  the  sea,  with  his  face  to  the  east,  on  ac- 
count of  the  Faith  which  he  had  embraced. 

“ The  nobles  of  the  Tua  ha  Re  Danann  were  used  to 
bury  at  Brugh  (t.  e.  the  Dagda  with  his  three  sons ; also 
Lughaidh  and  Oe,  and  Ollam,  and  Ogrna,  and  Ktan, 
the  Poetess,  and  Corpre,  the  son  of  Etan).  and  Cremli- 
thann  followed  them  because  his  wife  Nar  was  of  tlie 
Tuatha  Rea,  and  it  was  she  solicited  him  that  lie  should 
adopt  Brugh  as  a burial-place  for  himself  and  Irts  de- 
scendants, and  this  was  the  cause  that  they  did  not  bury 
at  Cruachan. 

“ The  Lagenians  (i.  e.  Cathair  with  his  race  and  the 
kings  who  were  before  them)  were  buried  at  Oenach 
Ailbhe.  The  Clann  Redad  (e.  e.  the  race  of  Conaire  and 
Erna)  at  Temhair  Erann  ; the  men  of  Munster  (i.  e.  the 
Dergthene)  at  Oenach  Culi,  and  Oenach  Colmain-  and 
the  Connacians  at  Cruachan." 

ANCHORITE  TOWERS. 

Because  Simon  Stylites  lived  in  a domicile, 
sized  44  scarce  two  cubits,”  on  a pillar  sixty  feet 
bigh,  and  because  other  anchorites  lived  on  pil- 
lars and  in  cells,  Doan  Richardson  suggested  that 
the  Irish  Round  Towers  were  for  hermits  ; and 
was  supported  by  Walter  Harris,  Dr.  Milner, 
Dr.  King,  &c. — The  cloch  angcoire,  or  hermit’s 
stone,  quoted  in  aid  of  this  fancy,  turns  out  to 
be  a narrow  cell ; and  so  much  for  the  hermits! 

The  confusion  of 

TOURS  AND  TOWELS 

is  u stupid  pun  or  a vulgar  pronunciation  in 


THE  ROUND  TOWERS  OF  IRELAND. 


73 


English  ; but  in  Irish  gave  rise  to  the  antiqua 
rian  theory  of  Dr.  Smith,  who,  in  his  “ History 
of  Cork,”  concludes  that  the  Round  Towers  were 
penitential  prisons,  because  the  Irish  word  for  a 
penitential  round  or  journey  is  turas  ! 

♦ THE  PHALLIC  THEORY 

never  had  any  support  but  poor  Henry  O’Brien’s 
enthusiastic  ignorance,  and  the  caricaturing  pen 
of  his  illustrator. 

We  have  now  done  with  the  theories  of  these 
Towers,  which  Mr.  Petrie  has  shown,  past  doubt, 
to  be  either  positively  false  or  quite  unproved. 
His  own  opinion  is  that  they  were  used — 1,  as 
belfries  ; 2,  as  keeps,  or  houses  of  shelter  for  the 
clergy  and  their  treasures ; and  3,  as  watch 
towers  and  beacons ; and  into  his  evidence  for 
this  opinion  we  shall  go  at  a future  day,  thanking 
him  at  present  for  having  displaced  a heap  of  in- 
congruous, though  agreeable  fancies,  and  given 
us  the  most  learned,  the  most  exact,  and  the  most 
important  work  ever  published  on  the  antiquities 
of  the  Ancient  Irish  Nation. 


UTERAItY  AND  HISTORICAL  E3SAY& 


ETIINOLOGY  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE 

Dr.  Wilde,  the  traveller,  read  a paper  to  th6 
Dublin  College  of  Physicians  on  the  skulls  of  the 
races  that  had  died  in  Ireland,  and  this  paper  he 
has  printed,  under  the  title  of  “ A Lecture  on 
the  Ethnology  of  the  Ancient  Irish.” 

He  introduces  the  subject  by  a summary  of  the 
means  by  which  ancient  races  are  commonly  in- 
vestigated. First,  and  rightly,  he  ranks  architec- 
tural and  implimental  remains.  The  palaces, 
pyramids,  and  picture-filled  tombs  of  Egypt  tell 
us  now  the  state  of  their  arts,  their  appearance# 
government,  and  manners.  How  much  we  would 
learn  of  Greece  had  her  writings  perished,  and 
her  statuary  and  temples  reached  us  ; and  how 
much  of  the  Romans  if  Pompeii  alone  remained, 
and  remained  without  a clue  to  its  manuscripts. 
So,  in  Ireland,  wre  have  the  monuments  of  diffe- 
rent races.  We  have  the  Ogham  pillar-stone, 
the  rested  rock  altar,  the  supported  cromleach, 
the  arched  stone  fort,  the  trenched  rath,  with  or 
without  stone  facings,  the  clay  or  rubble  pyramid, 
with  a passage  and  chamber,  the  flag-made  tomb. 
We  have  the  round  tower,  the  stone  circle,  the 
Brehon’s  or  Druid’s  chair,  and  the  stone-roofed 
jrypt — to  say  nothing  of  our  country  castles,  oui 
town  residences,  our  churches  and  monasteries, 
which  one  must  see  if  he  would  know  how  men 
lived  here  in  the  middle  ages. 


ETHNOLOGY  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE.  81 


Monumental  and  other  sculptures  tell  us  dress 
end  arms  better  than  any  description  in  words, 
We  are  amply  supplied  with  these  to  illustrate 
the  middle  ages  in  Ireland.  Our  old  churches 
are  full  of  such  tombs — hut  grievously  they  are 
abused  and  neglected.  Who  can  look  upon  the 
shattered  monuments  of  Jerpoint  and  Mellifont, 
and  not  think  that  a double  barbarism  (that  of 
the  people  and  that  of  their  oppressors)  has  been 
upon  Ireland.  Nay,  within  a few  miles  of  Dub- 
lin, in  the  church  of  Lusk,  we,  the  other  day, 
found  a noble  monument  broken  in  two,  and  it 
and  another  fine  tomb  left  to  the  mercies  of  un- 
taught and  irreverenu  children,  for  want  of 
a five  shilling  door  to  the  roofless,  but  otherwise 
perfect  church.  Who  is  to  blame  for  this,  the 
Rector  or  the  Commissioners  ? Both , we  say. 
How  fine  a use  may  be  made  of  these  medioeval 
tombs,  without  wantonly  stirring  them,  is  shown, 
as  we  remarked  before,  in  St.  Canice’s,  Kilkenny, 
disgraced  as  that  cathedral  is  by  whitewash. 
Curse  it  for  whitewash  ! ’tis  the  dirtiest,  ugliest 
thing  that  ever  was  put  outside  a cottage  wall  or 
inside  a large  building — for  the  inside  of  small 
rooms  ’tis  well  enough. 

Then,  again,  there  are  weapons,  and  orna- 
mental and  economical  implements  to  tell  us  the 
domestic  and  military  habits,  and  the  state  of 
mechanical  arts  among  a people.  We  shall  have 
more  to  say  on  this  head  some  other  time.  We 
pass  to  the  other  modes  of  investigating  races. 

The  second  means  of  Ethnology  is  language. 
Having  a number  of  words  in  common  proves 


02  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

communication  between  races.  If  these  words 
are  of  a very  simple  and  radical  kind  the  com- 
munication must  have  been  long  and  ancient 
If,  in  addition,  the  structure  and  character  of  the 
languages  be  the  same — if  their  use  of  articles 
and  tenses,  of  inflections  in  the  ends  of  words,  as 
in  Greek,  Latin,  and  German,  or  in  the  begin- 
ning of  them,  as  in  Irish  or  Welsh,  be  alike,  thi3 
is  evidence  that  their  first  language  was  one, 
and,  therefore,  the  races  'probably  identical. 

We  say,  probably  identical,  because  identity 
of  language  does  not  quite  prove  identity  of 
race.  The  negroes  of  the  West  Indies  will  most 
likely  speak  English  when  their  islands  are  in  a 
federal  republic.  The  red  men  of  Brazils  will 
most  likely  speak  Portuguese.  But  the  change 
of  language  is  wonderfully  slow  in  an  indepen- 
dent country.  The  people  of  Gascony  and  Pro- 
ven9e  do  not  speak  French.  They  speak  Gascon 
and  Proven9al.  The  different  English  counties 
have  their  dialects,  showing  what  branch  of 
Saxons  or  Danes  they  descend  from.  The  Welsh 
language  is  now  as  flourishing  as  it  was  when 
Edward  outlawed  it ; and  now,  after  centuries 
of  wrong,  when  Anglicism  has  made  us  serfs, 
not  a people,  we  have  colleges  founded  for  the 
support  of  the  Irish  language. 

Identity  in  the  structure  of  language  is,  then, 
a very  strong  proof  of  identity,  and,  as  a study, 
of  the  highest  interest. 

The  third  means  classified  by  Mr.  Wilde  for 
Ethnologic  research,  is  by  the  written  history 
and  oral  traditions  of  a country.  In  this  section 


ETHNOLOGY  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE. 


83 


he  indulges  in  some  sneers,  which  had  been 
better  omitted.  We  doubt  the  taste  and  correct 
«iess  of  much  of  what  he  says  on  the  topic. 

There  are  other  sorts  of  analogies,  worth  fob 
lowing  out,  not  noticed  by  Mr.  Wilde.  Such  is 
that  so  ingeniously  thought  of,  and  ably  illus- 
trated by  Mr.  Forde,  of  Cork.  He  disproves  the 
European  origin  of  our  music,  and  reduces  it  to 
either  an  original  construction  here,  or  to  an 
Eastern  source.  If  Eastern,  we  could  have  got 
it  from  the  Oriental  Christians,  or  Pagans.  The 
last  seems  Mr.  Forde’s  opinion.  We  trust  he 
will  have  further  means  of  following  out  this 
subject. 

Identity  in  form  and  substance  of  scientific 
knowledge  proves  little,  as  one  man,  or  one  book 
could  well  produce  it ; but  musical  characteris- 
tics are,  perhaps,  the  most  spiritual  and  safe  frcm 
confusion  of  any  that  can  be  imagined,  and  the 
surest  to  last  in  a country,  if  it  be  independent, 
or  if  it  be  rude.  A country  long  refined,  or  en- 
slaved, may  lose  every  thing. 

We  now  come  to  Mr.  Wilde’s  peculiar  subject, 
and  that  to  which  he  (faultily)  restricts  the  term. 
Ethnography — namely,  the  natural  history  of 
man.  The  study  of  man’s  animal  form  shows 
that  each  simple  race  has  peculiarities  in  size,  in 
shape  of  bones  and  limbs,  in  play  of  features,  and 
carriage  of  body,  and  in  colour. 

Many  of  these  peculiarities  can  be  studied 
from  the  bones  of  a race.  Of  course,  the  bones, 
or  any  of  them,  show  the  size  of  the  race.  The 
skull  shows  not  only  the  shape  of  the  head,  but 
®f  the  features.  The  skull  of  a man  with 


E4  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

aquiline  nose,  and  open  orbits,  and  massy  jaws, 
is  as  distinguishable  from  one  with  the  nose  of 
eyes  of  a II un  or  the  jaw  of  a Bengalee,  as  from 
that  of  a rabbit. 

The  marks  left  by  the  muscles  in  the  bones 
wherein  their  extremities  worked,  show,  too,  the 
4<  play  of  features”  or  expression  of  countenance 
to  some  extent. 

Taking  these  principles  with  him,  Mr.  Wilde 
examined  a number  of  skulls  in  old  churchyards, 
and  in  barrows  and  cairns,  both  here  and  abroad, 
and  tries  from  thence  to  classify  the  races  of  the 
Irish. 

His  conclusions  are  not  very  clearly  made  out, 
and  his  proofs  are  frequently  loose,  but  his  tract 
is  suggestive  and  serviceable. 

His  opinion  is  that  the  first  inhabitants  of  this 
country  were  what  are  called  Firbolgs — men  of 
Teutonic  or  German  blood — small,  lively,  with 
aquiline  noses,  dark  complexions,  and  heads  of 
great  length  from  front  to  back.  This  race  used 
the  stone  and  flint  hatchets,  shell  ornaments,  bone 
needles,  stone  mills,  and  clay  urns.  The  second 
race,  who  came  and  subdued  the  Firbolgs,  were 
(he  conceives)  those  called  Tuatha  da  Danaan — 
men  of  “ fair  hair  and  large  size,”  as  Mac  Firbis 
says.  They  were,  thinks  Mr.  Wilde,  Celts,  and 
used  bronze  in  their  weapons  and  implements. 
He  asserts,  too,  that  Norway  and  Sweden  were 
colonised  from  Ireland  by  Firbolgs  after  they 
had  learned  the  use  of  metals  from  the  Tuatha 
da  Danaan.  The  proof  given  is  that  skulls,  such 
as  he  supposes  n^uliar  to  the  Firbolgs,  are  found 
in  Scandinavia  associated  with  metal  weapon* 


ETHNOLOGY  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE. 


85 


There  is  evidence,  too,  that  these  Tuatha  da 
Danaan  were  either  Phoenicians,  or  from  a 
Phoenician  colony,  and  so  of  the  next  invaders— 
the  Milesians.  Mr.  Wilde  seems  to  attribute  a 
fine  globular  head  to  these  Danaans ; but  he 
seems  elsewhere  to  say  that  no  metal  remains 
have  been  found  with  any  heathen  skulls,  which 
would  contradict  his  own  hypothesis. 

We  shall  conclude  with  a couple  of  extracts— 
the  first,  showing  the  uncertainty  of  the  observa- 
tions likely  to  be  made,  and  the  imprudence  of 
all  generalities  (Mr.  Wilde’s  included)  now,  and 
the  other  for  illustration  sake  : — 

“ This  leads  me  to  the  last  locality  in  which  bones  of 
the  ancient  Irish  people  are  said  to  have  been  found — I 
allude  to  the  round  towers,  particularly  to  that  lately 
excavated  at  Drumbo,  in  the  county  Down.  # Much  in- 
terest has,  as  you  are  aware,  been  lately  excited  by  this 
discovery,  from  the  supposition  that  these  human  re- 
mains would  offer  some  clue  as  to  the  origin  and  uses  of 
these  strange  monuments,  or  to  assist  in  determining 
the  probable  era  of  their  erection.  The  enchanted  palace 
of  the  Irish  round  tower  will  shortly  be  opened  for  our 
inspection,  and,  therefore,  any,  even  a passing  opinion 
as  to  anything  connected  with  it  would  be  out  of  place. 
Here,  however,  is  a very  beautiful  cast  of  the  skull 
found  within  the  round  tower  of  Drumbo ; and  the  mo- 
ment it  was  presented  to  me,  I felt  convinced,  that  if  it 
is  of  a contemporaneous  age  with  the  structure  beneath 
which  it  was  found,  then  the  Irish  round  tower  is  not 
the  ancient  building  we  suppose  it  to  be  ; for  this,  com- 
pared with  the  other  heads  which  I have  laid  before  you, 
is  of  comparatively  modern  date.  Now,  nearly  all  round 
towers  are  in  connexion  with  ancient  burial  places,  and 
this  one,  in  particular,  was  so  ; and  I need  only  dig 
around  and  without  it  to  find  many  similar  remains. 
We  read  that  the  skeleton  was  found  at  full  length,  em- 
bedded in  the  clay,  within  the  ancient  structure.  Now 


86  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL.  ESSAYS. 

I respectfully  submit  it  to  the  antiquarian  world  tliat,  it 
the  round  tower  was  erected  as  a monument  over  the 
person  whose  skeleton  was  found  within  it,  it  certainly 
would  not  have  been  buried  thus  in  the  simple  earth 
without  a vault  or  stone  chamber,  such  as  the  en- 
lightened architect  who  built  the  tower  would  be 
thoroughly  acquainted  with.  Moreover.  I do  not  believe 
that  a skull  thus  placed  loosely  in  the  earth,  without 
any  surrounding  chamber,  would  have  remained  thus 
perfect  for  the  length  of  time,  which  even  the  most 
modernising  antiquaries  assign  as  the  date  of  the  round 
tower.  .At  Larne,  in  the  county  of  Antrim,  a skeleton 
was  lately  discovered,  which,  from  the  iron  sword  and 
other  weapons  in  connexion  with  it.  appeared  to  have 
been  that  of  a templar;  and  similar  remains  were,  not 
long  since,  discovered  at  Kilmainham.  This  templar’s 
skull,  found  at  Larne  ( which  Mr.  Wilde  here  produced) 
although  it  has  an  Irish  physiognomy,  and  a Fir-Bolg 
form  of  head,  cannot  be  traced  back  farther  than  the 
eleventh  or  twelfth  century  for  its  date. 

“ ‘ N.B. — Since  this  lecture  was  delivered,  I had  the 
gratification  of  receiving  several  communications  from 
different  parts  of  the  country,  on  the  subject  of  tumuli 
and  human  remains : so  that  one  of  the  objects  for  which 
it  was  undertaken — that  of  calling  attention  to  the  mat- 
ter— has  been  attained.  Among  these  communications, 

I had  the  honour  of  receiving  one  of  special  interest, 
from  A.  N.  Nugent,  Esq.,  who  lately  opened  a sepul- 
chral mound  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Portaferry. — 

‘ There  wa>’  he  writes  to  me,  ‘a  circle  of  large  stones, 
containing  an  area  of  about  a rood.  Between  each  of 
these  stones,  there  was  a facing  of  flat  ones,  similar  to 
the  building  of  our  modern  fences.  The  outer  coating 
was  covered  with  white  pebbles  averaging  the  size  of  a 
goose-egg,  of  which  there  vrere  several  cart-loads — 
although  it  would  be  difficult  to  collect  even  a small 
quantity  at  present  along  the  beach. 

“ ‘ After  this  was  taken  away  we  came  to  a confused 
heap  of  rubbish,  stone,  and  clay,  and  then  some  large 
flag  stones  on  their  ends — the  tumulus  still  preserving  h 
cone  shape.  In  the  centre  we  came  to  a chamber  about 
6ix  feet  long,  formed  by  eight  very  large  upright  stones. 


ETHNOLOGY  OF  THE  IRISH  RACE. 


87 


with  a large  flag  stone  at  the  bottom,  on  which  lay,  in 
one  heap,  of  a foot  in  thickness,  a mixture  of  black 
mould  and  bones/  These  bones,  some  of  which  were 
kindly  forwarded  to  me,  are  all  human,  and  consist  of 
portions  of  the  ribs,  vertebrae,  and  the  ends  of  the  long 
bones,  together  with  pieces  of  the  skull  and  some  joints 
of  the  fingers  of  a full-grown  person,  and  also  several 
bones  of  a very  young  child  ; none  of  these  have  been 
subject  to  the  action  of  fire ; but  among  the  parcel  for- 
warded to  me  are  several  fragments  of  incinerated  or 
calcined  bones,  also  human.  Either  these  latter  were 
portions  of  the  same  bodies  burned,  or  they  belonged  to 
an  individual  sacrificed  to  the  manes  of  the  person  whose 
grave  this  was  ; and  I am  inclined  to  think  the  latter  is 
the  more  probable,  from  the  circumstances  under  which 
similar  remains  have  been  discovered  in  other  localities. 
Evidently  this  tumulus  is  of  very  ancient  date — long 
prior  to  the  authentic  historic  period — and  was,  I should 
say,  erected  over  some  person  or  family  of  note  in  that 
day.  There  were  no  urns,  weapons,  or  ornaments  dis- 
covered in  connexion  with  it ; but  my  informant  states, 
that  in  the  field  in  which  this  barrow  was  opened,  there 
have  been  at  various  times,  small  stone  chambers,  or 
kistvaens,  discovered  ; and  in  one  of  these  a skull  of  the 
long,  flat,  and  narrow  character,  was  some  time  ago  dug 
up.  A farmer  in  the  vicinity,  likewise,  told  Mr.  Nu- 
gent that  many  years  ago,  while  ploughing  in  that  same 
field,  he  turned  up  a stone  chamber  of  the  same  kind, 
and  that  it  contained  a skull  with  a portion  of  hair  of  a 
deep  red  colour  attached  to  it.” 

The  subject  is  worthy  of  close  study ; but, 
careless  dabbling  with  it  were  worse  than  ne- 
glect. There  are  some  people — very  curious 
but  neither  reverend  nor  scientific — who,  on  read- 
ing this,  will  long  to  plunge  into  every  cairn  or 
grave  that  looks  a few  centuries  old,  to  see  whe- 
ther Wilde  is  right  or  Wilde  is  wrong.  We 
deprecate  this.  We  entreat  them  to  spare,  nay, 
to  guard  these  as  if  they  were  precious  casket® 


88  LITERATI  V A XL  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

entrusted  to  them.  The  Irish  tombs  must  not 
be  Grahamed.  It  is  not  right  for  any  man,  who 
has  not  spent  years  in  studying  comparative  ana- 
tomy,  to  open  the  meanest  tomb.  Even  had  we 
a scientific  commission  of  the  ablest  men  we 
should  insist  upon  a sparing  and  considerate  use 
of  such  violation  of  the  dead  man’s  home  for  the 
sake  of  the  live  man's  curiosity.  He  who  does 
not  respect  the  remains  of  his  fellow. creature, 
and  their  last  shelter,  is  without  one  of  the  finest 
feelings  of  humanity.  Even  the  hired  soldier, 
who  slays  for  pay,  is  more  human.  Some  of 
these  mounds  can,  and  will  be,  opened  hereafter 
by  the  Irish  Academy,  when  it  is  made,  as  it 
must  be,  an  Irish  Antiquarian  Institute.  In  the 
meantime  the  subject  had  best  be  practically 
left  to  Dr.  Wilde  and  the  few  competent  people 
who  are  engaged  on  it.  Let  these  tombs,  whe- 
ther on  the  mountain,  or  in  the  tilled  field,  or 
the  ruined  churchyard,  be  religiously  preserved  ; 
and  above  all,  let  the  children  be  brought  up 
with  tender  reference  for  these  sanctuaries  of  the 
departed.  We  have  room  enough  without  tres- 
passing on  the  grave. 


TH^:  I KISH  BRIGADE. 


89 


THE  XRTSH  BRIGADE 

When  valour  becomes  a reproach,  when  patriot- 
ism is  thought  a prejudice,  and  when  a soldier's 
sword  is  a sign  of  shame,  the  Irish  Brigade  will 
be  forgotten  or  despised. 

The  Irish  are  a military  people — strong,  nim- 
ble, and  hardy,  fond  of  adventure,  irascible, 
brotherly,  and  generous — they  have  all  the  qua- 
lities that  tempt  men  to  war  and  make  them 
good  soldiers.  Dazzled  by  their  great  fame 
on  the  Continent,  and  hearing  of  their  insular 
wars  chiefly  through  the  interested  lies  of  Eng- 
land, Voltaire  expressed  his  wonder,  that  a na- 
tion which  had  behaved  so  gallantly  abroad  had 
“ always  fought  badly  at  h mie.”  It  would  have 
been  most  wonderful. 

It  may  be  conceded  that  the  Irish  performed 
more  illustrious  actions  on  the  Continent.  They 
/ought  with  the  advantages  of  French  discipline 
and  equipment ; they  fought  as  soldiers,  with  the 
rights  of  war,  not  “rebels,  with  halters  round 
their  necks they  fought  by  the  side  of  great 
rivals  and  amid  the  gaze  of  Europe. 

In  the  most  of  their  domestic  wars  they  ap- 
peared as  divided  clans  or  abrupt  insurgents ; 
they  were  exposed  to  the  treachery  of  a more 
instructed,  of  an  unscrupulous  and  a compact 
enemy  ; they  had  neither  discipline,  nor  gene- 
ralship, nor  arms ; their  victories  were  those  ol 


90  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

a mob,  their  defeats  were  followed  by  extermi- 
nation. 

We  speak  of  tlioir  ordinary  contests  with  Eng- 
land from  the  time  of  Roderick  O’Connor  to  that 
of  ’98.  Occasionally  they  had  more  opportuni- 
ties, and  their  great  qualities  for  war  appeared. 
In  Hugh  (or  rather  Aodh)  O’Neill  they  found  a 
leader  who  only  wanted  material  resources  to 
have  made  them  an  independent  nation.  Cau- 
tious, as  became  the  heir  of  so  long  a strife,  he 
spent  years  in  acquiring  military  knowledge  and 
nursing  up  his  clan  into  the  kernel  for  a nation — 
crafty  as  Bacon  and  Cecil,  and  every  other  man 
of  his  time,  he  learned  war  in  Elizabeth’s  armies, 
and  got  help  from  her  store  houses.  When  the 
discontent  of  the  Pale,  religious  tyranny,  and  the 
intrigues  and  hostility  of  Spain  and  Rome  against 
England  gave  him  an  opening,  he  put  his  ordered 
clan  into  action,  stormed  the  neighbouring  gar- 
risons, struck  terror  into  his  hereditary  foes,  and 
‘gave  hope  to  all  patriots  ; but  finding  that  his 
ranks  were  too  few  for  battle,  he  negociated  suc- 
cessfully for  peace,  but  unavailingly  for  freedom  ; 
his  grievances  and  designs  remained,  and  he 
retired  to  repeat  the  same  policy,  till,  after  re- 
peated guerillas  and  truces,  he  was  strong  enough 
to  proclaim  alliance  with  Spain  and  war  with 
England,  and  to  defeat  and  slay  every  deputy 
that  assailed  him,  till  at  last  he  marched  from  the 
triumph  of  Beal-an-ath-Buidhe  (where  Marshal 
Bagenal  and  his  army  perished)  to  hold  an  almost 
royal  court  in  Munster,  and  to  reduce  the  Pale 
to  the  limits  it  had  formed  in  the  wars  of  the 
Roses ; and  even  when  the  neglect  of  Spain,  the 


THE  IRISH  BRIGADE. 


yi 


genius  of  Mountjoy,  the  resources  and  intrigues 
of  England,  and  the  exhaustion  and  divisions  of 
Ireland  had  rendered  success  hopeless,  the  Irish, 
under  O’Buarc,  O’Sullivan,  and  O’Doherty  vin- 
dicated their  military  character. 

From  that  period  they,  whose  foreign  services 
since  Dathi’s  time,  had  been  limited  to  supplying 
feudatories  to  the  English  kings,  began  to  fight 
under  the  flags  of  England’s  enemies  in  every 
corner  of*  Europe.  The  artifices  of  the  Stuarts 
regained  them,  and  in  the  reign  of  Charles  the 
First  they  were  extensively  enlisted  for  the  Eng- 
lish allies  and  for  the  crown  ; but  it  was  under 
the  guidance  of  another  O’Neill,  and  for  Ireland, 
they  again  exhibited  the  qualities  which  had  sus- 
tained Tyrone.  The  battle  of  Benburb  affords 
as  great  a proof  of  Irish  soldiership  as  Fontenoy. 

But  it  was  when  with  a formal  government 
and  in  a regular  war  they  encountered  the  Dutch 
invader,  they  showed  the  full  prowess  of  the 
Irish ; and  at  the  Boyne,  Limerick,  Athlone, 
and  Aughrim,  in  victory  or  defeat,  and  always 
against  immensely  superior  numbers  and  arma- 
ment , proved  that  they  fought  well  at  home. 

Since  the  day  when  Sarsfield  sailed,  the  Irish 
have  never  had  an  opportunity  of  refuting  the 
calumny  of  England  which  Voltaire  accepted.  In 
’98  they  met  enormous  forces  resting  on  all  the 
magazines  of  England ; they  had  no  officers ; 
their  leaders,  however  brave,  neither  knew  how 
to  organize,  provision,  station  or  manoeuvre  troops 
— their  arms  were  casual — their  ignorance  pro- 
found— their  intemperance  unrestrainable.  If 
they  put  English  supremacy  in  peril  (and  had 


02  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAY8. 

Arklow  or  Ballinahinch  been  attacked  with  skill, 
that  supremacy  was  gone,)  they  did  so  by  mere 
valour. 

It  is  therefore  on  the  Continent  that  one  must 
chiefly  look  for  Irish  trophies.  It  is  a pious  and 
noble  search ; but  he  who  pursues  it  had  need 
to  guard  against  the  error  we  have  noticed  in 
Voltaire,  of  disparaging  Irish  soldiership  at 
home. 

The  materials  for  the  history  of  the  Irish  Bri- 
gade are  fast  accumulating.  We  have  before  us 
the  “ Military  History  of  the  Irish  Nation,1 99  by 
the  late  Matthew  O’Conor.  He  was  a barrister, 
but  studied  military  subjects  (as  became  a gen- 
tleman and  a citizen,)  peculiarly  interested 
himself  in  the  achievements  of  his  countrymen, 
and  prepared  materials  for  a history  of  them.  He 
died,  leaving  his  work  unfinished,  yet  happily 
sufficiently  advanced  to  offer  a continuous  narra- 
tive of  Irish  internal  wars  from  Hugh  O’Neill 
to  Sarsfield,  and  of  their  foreign  services  up  to 
the  peace  of  Utrecht,  in  1711.  The  style  of  the 
work  is  earnest  and  glowing,  full  of  patriotism 
and  liberality;  but  Mr.  O’Conor  was  no  blind 
partisan,  and  he  neither  hides  the  occasional 
excesses  of  the  Irish,  nor  disparages  their  oppo- 
nents. His  description  of  battles  are  very  supe- 
rior to  what  one  ordinarily  meets  in  the  works 
of  civilians,  and  any  one  reading  them  with  a 
military  atlas  will  be  gratified  and  instructed. 

The  value  of  the  work  is  vastly  augmented  by 
the  appendix,  which  is  a memoir  of  the  Brigade, 
written  in  French,  in  1 7 49,  and  including  the 
^ar-office  orders,  and  all  the  changes  in  orgam- 


THE  IRISH  BRIGADE.  93 

fiation,  numbers,  and  pay  of  the  Brigade  to  that 
date.  This  memoir  is  authenticated  thus  : — 

“His  Excellency,  the  Duke  of  Feltre.  Minister  ot 
War,  was  so  kind  as  to  communicate  to  me  the  original 
memoir  above  cited,  of  which  this  is  a perfect  copy, 
which  I attest. 

“ Demoxt.morencv  Morres  (Herve.) 
k*  Adjutant-Commandant,  Colonel. 

“Paris,  1st  September,  1813.” 

To  give  any  account  of  the  details  of  Mr. 
O'Conor’s  book  we  should  abridge  it,  and  an 
abridgment  of  a military  history  is  a catalogue  of 
names.  It  contains  accounts  of  Hugh  O’ Neill's 
campaigns,  and  of  the  wars  of  William  and  James 
in  Ireland  It  describes  (certainly  a new  chapter 
in  our  knowledge)  the  services  of  the  Irish  in 
the  Low  Countries  and  France  during  the  reli- 
gious wars  in  Henry  Quatre’s  time,  and  the 
hitherto  equally  unknown  actions  abroad  during 
Charles  the  Second’s  exile  and  reign. 

The  wars  of  Mountcashel’s  (the  old)  Brigade 
in  1690-1,  under  St.  Iluth  in  Savoy,  occupy 
many  interesting  pages,  and  the  first  campaigns 
of  the  New  Brigade,  with  the  death  of  Sarsfield 
and  Mountcashel  are  carefully  narrated.  The 
largest  part  of  the  work  is  occupied  with  the 
wars  of  the  Spanish  succession,  and  contains  minute 
narratives  of  the  battles  and  sieges  of  Cremonar 
Spire,  Luzzaca,  Bleinheim,  Cassano,  Ramalies, 
Almanza,  Alcira,  Malplaquet,  and  Denain,  with 
the  actions  of  the  Irish  in  them. 

Here  are  great  materials  for  our  future  History 
of  Ireland. 


94  LITERARY  AND  IIIST0KICA1  ESSAYS. 


THE  SPEECHES  OF  GIIATTAN.* 

Of  the  long  line  of  P otestant  patriots,  Grat- 
tan is  the  first  in  genius,  and  first  in  services. 
He  had  a more  fervid  and  more  Irish  nature 
than  Swift  or  Flood,  and  he  accomplished  what 
Swift  hardly  dreamed,  and  Flood  failed  in — an 
Irish  constitution.  He  had  immeasurably  more 
imagination  than  Tone  ; and  though  he  was  far 
behind  the  great  Founder  of  the  United  Irishmen 
in  organising  power,  he  surpassed  him  in  inspi- 
ration. The  statues  of  all  shall  be  in  our  forums, 
and  examples  of  all  in  our  hearts,  but  that  of 
Grattan  shall  be  pre-eminent.  The  stubborn 
and  advancing  energy  of  Swift  and  Flood  may 
teach  us  to  bear  up  against  wrong ; the  principles 
of  Tone  may  end  in  liberation  ; but  the  splendid 
nationality  of  Grattan  shall  glorify  us  in  every 
condition. 

The  speeches  of  Grattan  were  collected  and 
his  memoirs  written  by  his  son.  The  latter  is 
an  accessible  and  an  invaluable  account  of  his 
life ; but  the  speeches  were  out  of  print,  not 
purchaseable  under  five  or  six  guineas,  and  then 
were  unmanageably  numerous  for  any  but  a 

* The  Select  Speeches  of  the  Right  Hon.  Henry 
Grattan.  To  which  is  added  his  Letter  on  the  Union, 
with  a Commentary  on  his  Career  and  Character.  By 
Daniel  Owen  Madden,  Esq.,  of  the  Inner  Temple. 
Dublin,  James  Duffy,  1845.  8vo.  pp.  534. 


< 


THE  SPEECHES  OF  GRATTAN.  95 

professed  politician.  Mr.  Madden’s  volume  gives 
for  a trifle  all  Grattan's  most  valuable  speeches, 
with  a memoir  sufficient  to  explain  the  man  and 
the  orator. 

On  the  speeches  of  Grattan  here  published,  we 
have  little  to  say.  They  are  the  finest  specimens 
of  imaginative  eloquence  in  the  English,  or  in  any 
language.  There  is  not  much  pathos,  and 
no  humour  in  them,  and  in  these  respects  Grat- 
tan is  far  less  of  an  Irishman,  and  of  an  orator, 
too,  than  Curran  ; but  a philosophy,  penetrating 
constitutions  for  their  warnings,  and  human 
nature  for  its  guides — a statesman’s  (as  dis- 
tinguished from  an  antiquarian’s)  use  of  history 
— a passionate  scorn  and  invective  for  the  base, 
tyrannical,  and  unjust — a fiery  and  copious  zeal 
for  liberty  and  for  Ireland,  and  a diction  and 
cadence  almost  lyrical,  made  Grattan  the  sud- 
den achiever  of  a Revolution,  and  will  make 
him  for  ever  one  of  the  very  elements  of  Ire- 
land. 

No  other  orator  is  so  uniformly  animated. 
No  other  orator  has  brightened  the  depths  of 
political  philosophy  with  such  vivid  and  lasting 
light.  No  writer  in  the  language,  except  Shaks- 
peare,  has  so  sublime  and  suggestive  a diction. 
His  force  and  vehemence  are  amazing — far  be- 
yond Chatham,  far  beyond  Fox,  far  beyond  any 
orator  we  can  recal. 

To  the  student  of  oratory  Grattan’s  speeches 
are  dangerously  suggestive — overpowering  spirits 
that  will  not  leave  when  bid.  Yet,  with  all  this 
terrible  potency,  who  would  not  bask  in  his 
genius,  even  at  the  hazard  of  having  his  light 


96  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


fbr  ever  in  your  eyes.  The  brave  student  will 
rather  exult  in  his  effulgence — not  to  rob,  not  to 
mimic  it — but  to  catch  its  inspiration,  and  then 
go  on  his  way  resolved  to  create  a glory  of  his 
own  which,  however  small,  being  genuine,  shall 
not  pale  within  its  sphere. 

To  give  a just  idea  of  Grattan’s  rush  and 
splendour  to  any  one  not  familiar  with  his 
speeches  is  impossible  ; but  some  glimmer  may 
be  got  by  one  reading  the  extracts  we  shall 
add  here.  We  shall  take  them  at  random,  as  we 
open  the  pages  in  the  book,  and  leave  the  reader 
untaught  in  our  great  orator,  to  judge,  if  chance 
is  certain  of  finding  such  gems,  what  would  not 
judicious  care  discover!  Let  him  use  that  care 
again  and  again  : — 

“Sir,  we  may  hope  todazzle  with  illumination,  and  we 
may  sicken  with  addresses,  but  the  public  imagination 
will  never  rest,  nor  will  her  heart  be  well  at  ease : 
never  1 so  long  as  the  parliament  of  England  exercises 
or  claims  a legislation  over  this  country  : so  long  as  this 
shall  be  the  ca  se,  that  very  free  trade,  other  wise  a per- 
petual attachment,  will  be  the  cause  of  new  discontent ; 
it  will  create  a pride  to  feel  the  indignity  of  bondage : 
it  will  furnish  a strength  to  bite  your  chain,  and  the 
liberty  withheld  will  poison  the  good  communicated. 

“The  Bri  ish  minister  mistakes  the  Irish  character ; 
had  he  intended  to  make  Ireland  a slave,  he  should  havft 
kept  her  a beggar  ; there  is  no  middle  policy;  win  her 
heart  by  the  restoration  of  her  right,  or  cut  off  the 
nation’s  right  hand ; greatly  emancipate,  or  fundamen- 
tally destroy.  We  may  talk  plausibly  to  England,  but 
so  long  as  she  exercises  a power  to  bind  this  country,  sa 
long  are  the  nations  in  a state  of  war  ; the  claims  of  the 
one  go  against  the  liberty  of  the  other,  and  the  senti- 
ments of  the  latter  go  to  oppose  those  claims  to  the  las 
drop  of  her  blood.  The  English  opposition,  therefe 


THE  SPEECHES  OF  GRATTAN. 


97 


Are  right ; mere  trade  will  not  satisfy  Ireland : — they 
judge  of  us  by  other  great  nations  b}r  the  nation  whose 
political  life  has  been  a struggle  for  liberty  ; they 
judge  of  us  with  a true  knowledge,  and  just  deference, 
/or  our  character;  that  a country  enlightened  as  Inland, 
chartered  as  Ireland,  armed  as  Ireland,  and  injured  as 
Ireland,  will  be  satisfied  with  nothing  less  than  liberty. 

“ Imprac  icable!  impracticable!  impracticable,  a zea- 
lous divine  will  say  ; an>  alteration  is  beyond  the  power 
and  wisdom  of  parliament;  above  the  faculties  of  man  to 
make  adequate  provision  for  900  clergymen,  who  de- 
spise riches.  Were  it  to  raise  a new  tax  for  their  pro- 
vision, or  for  that  of  a body  less  holy,  how  easy  the 
task ! how  various  the  means  ! but,  when  the  proposal  is 
to  diminish  a tax  already  established,  an  impossibility 
glares  us  in  the  lace,  of  a measure  so  contrary  to  our 
practices  both  in  church  and  state.” 

We  were  wrong  in  saving  there  was  no 
humour  in  Grattan.  Here  is  a passage  humor 
oils  enough,  but  it  is  scornful,  rhetorical  hu- 
mour : — 

“ It  does  not  affect  the  doctrine  of  our  religion  : it  does 
not  alter  the  church  establishment ; it  does  not  affect 
the  constitution  of  episcopacy.  'I  he  modus  does  not 
even  alter  the  mode  of  their  provision,  it  only  limits  tht 
quantum,  and  limits  it  on  principles  much  less  severe 
than  that  charity  which  they  preach,  nr  that  abstinence 
which  they  inculcate.  Is  this  innovation  ? — as  if  the 
Protestant  religion  was  to  be  propagated  in  Ireland,  like 
the  influence  of  a minister,  by  bribery  ; or  like  the  in- 
fluence of  a county  candidate,  by  money  ; or  like  ihe 
cause  of  a potwalloping  canvasser,  by  the  weight  of  the 
purse  ; as  il  Christ  could  not  prevail  over  the  earth  un- 
less Mammon  to  k him  by  the  hand.  Am  l to  under- 
stand that  if  you  give  the  parson  l*2s.  in  the  acre  for 
potatoes,  and  10s.  for  wheat,  the  Protestant  religion  is 
lafe  on  its  rock  ? But  if  you  reduce  him  to  6s.  the  acre 
for  potatoes  and  wheat,  then  Jupiter  shakes  the  Heavens 
with  his  thunder,  Neptune  rakes  up  the  deep  with  his 
Indent,  and  Pluto  leaps  from  his  throne!  See  the 


93  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


curate — he  rises  at  six  to  morning  prayers  ; he  leaver 
company  at  six  for  evening  prayer;  lie  baptizes,  lie 
marries,  he  churches,  he  buries,  be  follows  with  pious 
offices  his  fellow- creature  from  the  cradle  to  the  grave  ; 
for  what  immense  income ! what  riches  to  reward  these 
inestimable  services?  (Do  not  depend  on  the  penury  of 
the  laity,  let  his  own  order  value  his  deserts;)  50/.  a 
year ! 50/. ! for  praying,  for  christening,  for  marrying, 
for  churching,  for  burying,  for  following  with  Christian 
offices  his  fellow-creature  from  cradle  to  grave ; so 
frugal  a thing  is  devotion,  so  cheap  religion,  so  easy  the 
terms  on  which  man  may  worship  his  Maker,  and  so 
small  the  income,  in  the  opinion  of  ecclesiastics,  suffi- 
cient for  the  duties  of  a clergyman,  as  far  as  he  is  con- 
nected at  all  with  the  Christian  religion. 
******* 

“ By  this  trade  of  parliament  the  King  is  absolute;  his 
will  is  signified  by  both  houses  of  parliament,  who  are 
now  as  much  an  instrument  in  his  hand  as  a bayonet  in 
the  hands  of  a regiment.  Like  a regiment  we  have  our 
adjutant,  who  sends  to  the  infirmary  for  the  old  and  to 
the  brothel  for  the  young,  and  men  thus  carted,  as  it 
were  into  this  house,  to  vote  for  the  minister,  are 
called  the  representatives  of  the  people ! Suppose 
General  Washington  to  ring  his  bell,  and  order  his  ser- 
vants out  of  livery  to  take  their  seats  in  Congress — you 
can  apply  this  instance. 

“ It  is  not  life  but  the  condition  of  living — the  slave  is 
not  so  likely  to  complain  of  the  want  of  property  as  the 
proprietor  of  the  want  of  privilege.  The  human  mind 
is  progressive — the  child  does  net  look  back  to  the 
parent  that  gave  him  being,  nor  the  proprietor  to  the 
people  that  gave  him  the  power  of  acquisition,  but  both 
look  forward — the  one  to  provide  for  the  comforts  of 
life,  and  the  other  to  obtain  all  the  privileges  of  pro- 
perty.” 

But  we  have  fallen  on  one  of  his  most  marvel- 
lous passages,  and  we  give  it  entire  : — 

“ I will  put  this  question  to  my  country  ; I will  suppose 
her  at  the  bar,  and  I will  ask  her,  will  you  fight  for  a 


THE  SPEECHES  OF  GRATTAN. 


99 


Union  as  you  would  for  a constitution  ? Will  you  fight 
for  that  Lords,  and  that  Commons,  who,  in  the  last 
century,  took  away  your  trade,  and,  in  the  present, 
your  constitution,  as  for  that  King,  Lords,  and  Com- 
mons, who  have  restored  both  ? Well,  the  minister  has 
destroyed  this  constitution ; to  destroy  is  easy.  The 
edifices  of  the  rnind,  like  the  fabrics  of  marble,  require 
an  age  to  build,  but  ask  only  minutes  to  precipitate  ; 
and,  as  the  fall  of  both  is  an  effort  of  no  time,  so  neither 
is  it  a business  of  any  strength — a pick-axe  and  a com- 
mon labourer  will  do  the  one — a little  lawyer,  a little 
pimp,  a wicked  minister  the  other. 

“ The  constitution,  which,  with  more  or  less  violence, 
has  been  the  inheritance  of  this  country  for  six  hundred 
years — that  modus  tenendi  parliamentum , which  lasted 
and  outlasted  of  Plantagenet  the  wars,  of  Tudor  the 
violence,  and  of  Stuart  the  systematic  falsehood — the 
condition  of  our  connexion — yes,  the  constitution  he  de- 
stroys is  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  British  empire.  He 
may  walk  round  it  and  round  it,  and  the  more  he  con- 
templates the  more  must  he  admire  it — such  a one  as 
had  cost  England  of  money  millions  and  of  blood  a 
deluge,  cheaply  and  nobly  expended — whose  restoration 
had  cost  Ireland  her  noblest  efforts,  and  was  the  habi- 
tation of  her  loyalty — we  are  accustomed  to  behold  the 
kings  of  these  countries  in  the  keeping  of  parliament — 
I say  of  her  loyalty  as  well  as  of  her  liberty,  where  she 
had  hung  up  the  sword  of  the  Volunteer — her  temple  of 
fame  as  well  as  of  freedom — where  she  had  seated  her- 
self as  she  vainly  thought  in  modest  security  and  in  a 
long  repose. 

“I  have  done  with  the  pile  which  the  minister  batters, 
I come  to  the  Babel  which  he  builds  ; and  as  he  throws 
down  without  a principle,  so  does  he  construct  without 
a foundation.  This  fabric  he  calls  a Union,  and  to  this  his 
fabric,  there  are  two  striking  objections — first,  it  is  no 
Union ; it  is  not  an  identification  of  people,  for  it  ex- 
cludes the  Catholics ; secondly,  it  is  a consolidation  of 
the  Irish  legislatures  ; that  is  to  say,  a merger  of  the 
Irish  parliament,  and  incurs  every  objection  to  a Union, 
without  obtaining  the  only  object  which  a Union  pro- 
fesses : it  is  an  extinction  of  the  constitution,  and  an 


100  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


exclusion  of  the  people.  Well ! lie  lias  overlooked  the 
people  as  he  lias  overlooked  the  sea.  I sa y he  excludes 
the  Catholics,  and  he  destroys  their  best  chance  of  ad- 
mission— the  relative  consequence.  Thus  he  reasons, 
that  hereafter,  in  course  of  time  (he  does  not  say  when), 
it  they  behave  themselves  (he  does  not  say  how),  they 
may  see  their  subjects  submitted  to  a course  of  discussion 
(he  does  not  say  with  what  result  or  determination)  ; 
and  as  the  ground  for  this  inane  period,  in  which  he 
promises  nothing,  ami  in  which,  if  he  did  promise  much, 
at  so  remote  a period  he  could  perform  nothing,  unless 
lie,  like  the  evil  lie  has  accomplished,  be  immortal.  For 
this  inane  sentence,  in  which  lie  can  scarcely  be  said  to 
deceive  the  Catholic,  or  suffer  the  Catholic  to  deceive 
himself,  he  exhibits  no  other  ground  than  the  physical 
inanity  of  the  Catholic  body  accomplished  by  a Union, 
which,  as  it  destroys, the  relative  importance  of  Ireland, 
so  it  destroys  the  relative  proportion  of  the  Catholic  in- 
habitants, and  thus  they  become  admissible,  because 
they  cease  to  be  anything.  Hence,  according  to  him, 
their  brilliant  expectation  : ‘You  were/  says  his  advo- 
cates, and  so  imports  his  argument,  ‘ before  the  Union 
as  three  to  one,  you  will  be  by  the  Union  as  one  to 
four.’  Thus  lie  founds  their  hopes  of  political  power  on 
the  extinction  of  physical  consequence,  and  makes  the 
inanity  of  their  body  and  the  non-enity  of  their  country, 
the  pillars  of  their  future  ambition.” 

We  now  return  to  the  memoir  by  Mr.  Mad- 
den. It  is  not  the  details  of  a life  meagre  for 
want  of  space,  and  confused  for  want  of  princi- 
ples, as  most  little  biographies  are ; it  is  an  esti- 
mate, a profound  one,  of  Grattan’s  original 
nature,  of  the  influences  which  acted  on  him 
from  youth  to  manhood,  of  his  purposes,  his 
principles,  and  his  influence  on  Ireland. 

Henry  Grattan  was  twenty. nine  years  of  age 
when  he  entered  on  politics,  and  in  seven  years 
he  was  the  triumphant  leader  of  a people  free 


THE  SPEECHES  OF  GRATTAN. 


101 


mid  victorious  after  hereditary  bondage.  Ha 
entered  parliament  educated  in  the  metaphysical 
and  political  philosophy  of  the  time,  injured  by 
its  cold  and  epigrammatic  verse  and  its  artificial 
tastes — familiar  with  every  form  of  aristocratic 
life  from  Kilkenny  to  London — familiar,  too, 
with  Chatham’s  oratory  and  principles,  and  with 
Flood’s  views  and  example.  He  came  when 
there  were  great  forces  rushing  through  the 
land — eloquence,  love  of  liberty,  thirst  for 
commerce,  hatred  of  English  oppression,  im- 
patience, glory,  and,  above  all,  a military  array. 
He  combined  these  elements,  and  used  them  to 
achieve  the  Revolution  of  *82.  Be  he  for  ever 
honoured  ! 

Mr.  Madden  defends  him  against  Flood  on 
the  question  of  Simple  Repeal.  Here  is  his 
reasoning : — 

4i  It  is  an  easy  thing  now  to  dispose  of  the  idle  question 
of  simple  repeal.  In  truth,  there  was  nothing  whatever 
deserving  of  attention  in  the  point  raised  by  Mr.  Flood. 
The  security  for  the  continuance  of  Irish  freedom  did 
not  depend  upon  an  English  act  of  parliament.  It  was 
by  Irish  will  and  not  at  English  pleasure  that  the  new 
constitution  was  to  be  supported.  The  transaction  be- 
tween the  countries  was  of  a high  political  nature,  and 
it  was  to  be  judged  by  political  reason,  and  by  states- 
manlike computation,  and  not  by  the  petty  techni- 
calities of  the  court  of  law.  The  revolution  of  1782,  as 
carried  by  Ireland,  and  assented  to  by  England  (in  re- 
pealing the  6th  George  the  First),  was  a political  com- 
pact —proposed  by  one  country,  and  acknowledged  by 
the  oilier  in  the  face  of  Europe : it  was  not  (as  Mr. 
Flood  and  his  partisans  construed  the  transaction)  of  tb.« 
nature  of  municipal  right,  to  be  enforced  or  annulled  bjf 
mere  judicial  exposition.” 


102  LTTI2RAK  Y A :a>  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


This  is  unanswerable,  but  Grattan  should 
have  gone  farther.  The  Revolution  was  effected 
mainly  by  the  Volunteers,  whom  he  had  in- 
spired ; arms  could  alone  have  preserved  the 
constitution.  Flood  was  wrong*  in  setting  value 
on  one  form — Grattan  in  relying  on  any;  but 
both  before  and  after  *82,  Flood  seems  to  have 
had  glimpses  that  the  question  was  one  of  might, 
as  well  as  of  right,  and  that  national  laws  could 
not  last  under  such  an  alien  army. 

Taken  as  military  representatives,  the  Con- 
vention at  the  Rot  undo  was  even  more  valuable 
than  as  a civic  display.  Mr.  Madden  censures 
Grattan  for  having  been  an  elaborate  neutral 
during  these  Reform  dissensions  ; but  that  the 
result  of  such  neutrality  ruined  the  Convention 
proves  a comparative  want  of  power  in  Flood, 
who  could  have  governed  that  Convention  in 
spite  of  the  rascally  English  and  the  feeble  Irish 
Whigs.  Oh  ! had  Tone  been  in  that  Council  ! 

In  describing  Grattan’s  early  and  enthusiastic 
and  ceaseless  advocacy  of  Catholic  liberty,  Mr. 
Madden  has  a just  subject  for  unmixed  eulogy. 
Let  no  one  imagine  that  the  interest  of  these 
Emancipation  speeches  has  died  with  the  achieve- 
ment of  what  they  pleaded  for ; they  will  ever 
remain  divinest  protests  against  the  vice  and 
impolicy  of  religious  ascendancy,  of  sectarian 
bitterness,  and  of  bigot  separation. 

For  this  admirable  beginning  of  the  design  of 
giving  Ireland  its  most  glorious  achievement— 
the  speeches  of  its  orators — to  contemplate,  the 
country  should  be  grateful  • but  if  there  can  be 


TAE  SPEECHES  OF  GRATTAN. 


10; 


ything  better  for  it  to  hear  than  can  be  had  in 
Grattan’s  speeches,  it  is  such  language  as  this 
from  his  eloquent  editor  : 

“Reader!  if  you  be  an  Irigh  Protestant,  and  entertain 
harsh  prejudices  against  your  Catholic  countrymen — . 
study  the  works  and  life  of  Grattan — learn  from  him, 
for  none  can  teach  you  better,  how  to  purify  your 
nature  from  bigotry.  Learn  from  him  to  look  upon  all 
your  countrymen  with  a loving  heart — to  be  tolerant  oi 
infirmities,  caused  by  their  unhappy  history — and, 
Grattan,  earnestly  sympathise  with  all  that  is  brave  and 
generous  in  their  character. 

“Reader!  if  you  be  an  Irish  Catholic,  and  that  you 
confound  the  Protestant  religion  with  tyranny — learn 
from  Grattan,  that  it  is  possible  to  be  a Protestant,  and 
have  a heart  for  Ireland  and  its  people.  Think  that  the 
brightest  age  of  Ireland  was  when  Grattan — a steady 
Protestant — raised  it  to  proud  eminence ; think  also 
that  in  the  hour  of  his  triumph,  he  did  not  forget  the 
state  of  your  oppressed  fathers,  but  laboured  through 
his  virtuous  life,  that  both  you  and  your  children  should 
enjoy  unshackled  liberty  of  conscience. 

“But  reader!  whether  you  be  Protestant  or  Catholic, 
and  whatever  be  your  party,  you  will  do  well  as  an 
Irishman  to  ponder  upon  the  spirit  and  principles  which 
governed  the  public  and  private  life  of  Grattan.  Learn 
from  him  how  to  regard  your  countrymen  of  all  denomi- 
nations. Observe,  as  he  did,  how  very  much  that  is 
excellent  belongs  to  both  the  great  parties  into  which 
Ireland  is  divided.  If  (as  some  do)  you  entertain 
dispiriting  views  of  Ireland,  recollect  that  any  country, 
containing  such  elements  as  those  which  roused  the 
genius  of  Grattan,  never  need  despair.  Sursum  cor  da. 
Be  not  disheartened. 

“Go — go — my  countrymen — and,  within  your  social 
sphere,  carry  into  practice  those  moral  principles  which 
Grattan  so  eloquently  taught,  and  which  he  so  re- 
markably enforced  by  his  well-spent  life.  He  will  teach 
you  to  avoid  hating  men  on  account  of  their  religious 
professions,  or  hereditary  descent.  From  him  you  will 
learn  principles  which,  if  carried  out,  would  generate  a 
new  state  of  society  in  Ireland."’ 


104  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAY*. 


MEMORIALS  OF  WEXFORD. 

*Twixt  Croghan-Kinshela,  and  Hook  Head* 
*twixt  Carnsore  and  Mount-Leinster,  there  is  as 
good  a mass  of  men  as  ever  sustained  a state  by 
holiest  franchises,  by  peace,  virtue,  and  intelli- 
gent industry ; and  as  stout  a mass  as  ever 
tramped  through  a stubborn  battle.  There  is  a 
county  where  we  might  seek  more  of  stormy  ro- 
mance, and  there  is  a county  where  prospers  a 
shrewder  economy,  but  no  county  in  Ireland  is 
fitter  for  freedom  than  Wexford. 

They  are  a peculiar  people — these  Wexford 
men.  Their  blood  is  for  the  most  part  English 
and  Welsh,  though  mixed  with  the  Danish  and 
the  Gaelic,  yet  they  are  Irish  in  thought  and 
feeling.  They  are  a Catholic  people,  yet  on 
excellent  terms  with  their  Protestant  landlords. 
Outrages  are  unknown,  for  though  the  rents 
are  high  enough,  they  are  not  unbearable  by  a 
people  so  idustrious  and  skilled  in  farming. 

Go  to  the  fair  and  you  will  meet  honest  deal- 
ing, and  a look  that  heeds  no  lordling’s  frown— 
for  the  Wexford  men  have  neither  the  base  bend 
nor  the  baser  craft  of  slaves.  Go  to  the  hust- 
ings, and  you  will  see  open  and  honest  voting ; 
no  man  shrinking  or  crying  for  concealment,  or 
extorting  a bribe  under  the  name  of  “ his  ex- 
penses.” Go  to  their  farms,  and  you  will  see  a 
gnug  homestead,  kept  clean,  prettily  sheltered 


MEMORIALS  OF  WEXFORD. 


104 


(much  what  you’d  see  in  Down),  more  green 
crops  than  even  in  Ulster,  the  National  School 
and  the  Repeal  Reading-room  well  filled,  and 
every  religious  duty  regarded. 

Wexford  is  not  all  it  might  be,  or  all  that 
vith  more  education  and  the  life-hope  of  nation^ 
ality,  it  will  be — there  is  something  to  blame  and 
something  to  lament,  here  a vice  sustained,  and 
there  a misfortune  lazily  borne  ; yet,  take  it  for 
all  in  all,  it  is  the  most  prosperous,  it  is  the  par- 
tern  county  of  the  South  ; and  when  we  see  it 
coming  forward  in  a mass  to  renew  its  demand 
for  native  government,  it  is  an  omen  that  the 
spirit  of  the  people  outlives  quarrels  and  jealou- 
sies, and  that  it  has  a rude  vitality  which  will 
wear  out  its  oppressors. 

Nor  are  we  indifferent  to  the  memories  of 
Wexford.  It  owes  much  of  its  peace  and  pros- 
perity to  the  war  it  sustained.  It  rose  in  ’98 
with  little  organisation  against  intolerable  wrong; 
and  though  it  was  finally  beaten  by  superior 
forces,  it  taught  its  aristocracy  and  the  govern- 
ment a lesson  not  easily  forgiven,  to  be  sure, 
but  far  harder  to  be  forgotten — a lesson  that 
popular  anger  could  strike  hard  as  well  as  sigh 
deeply  ; and  that  it  was  better  to  conciliate  than 
provoke  those  who  even  for  an  hour  had  felt 
their  strength.  The  red  rain  made  Wexford’s 
harvest  grow.  Their’s  was  no  treacherous  assas- 
sination— their’s  no  stupid  riot — their’s  no  pale 
mutiny.  They  rose  in  mass  and  swept  the 
country  by  sheer  force. 

Nor  in  their  sinking  fortunes  is  there  anything 


106  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

to  blush  at.  Scullabogue  was  not  burned  by  th<t 
fighting  men. 

Yet,  nowhere  did  the  copper  sun  of  that  July 
burn  upon  a more  heart-piercing  sight  than  a 
rebel  camp.  Scattered  on  a hill-top,  or  screened 
in  a gap,  were  the  grey-coated  thousands,  their 
memories  mad  at  burned  cabins,  and  military 
whips,  and  hanged  friends ; their  hopes  dimmed 
by  partial  defeat ; their  eyes  lurid  with  care  *, 
their  brows  full  of  gloomy  resignation.  Some 
have  short  guns,  which  the  stern  of  a boat  might 
bear,  but  which  press  through  the  shoulder  of  a 
marching  man  ; and  others  have  light  fowling 
pieces,  with  dandy  locks — troublesome  and 
dangerous  toys.  Most  have  pikes,  stout  wea- 
pons, too : and  though  some  swell  to  handspikes, 
and  others  thin  to  knives,  yet,  for  all  that,  fatal 
are  they  to  dragoon  or  musketeer  if  they  can 
meet  him  in  a rush ; but  how  shall  they  do  so  ? 
The  gunsmen  have  only  a little  powder  in  scraps 
of  paper  or  bags,  and  their  balls  are  few  and 
rarely  fit.  They  have  no  potatoes  ripe,  and 
they  have  no  bread — their  food  is  the  worn  cat- 
tle they  have  crowded  there,  and  which  the  first 
skirmish  may  rend  from  them.  There  are  women 
•and  children  seeking  shelter,  seeking  those  they 
love ; and  there  are  leaders  busier,  feebler,  less 
knowing,  less  resolved  than  the  women  and  the 
children. 

Great  hearts ! how  faithful  ye  were.  How  ye 
bristled  up  when  the  foe  came  on,  how  ye  set 
your  teefh  to  die  as  his  shells  and  round-shot  fell 
iteadily ; and  with  liow  firm  a cheer  ye  dashed 


MEMORIALS  OF  WEXFORD. 


107 


at  him,  if  he  gave  you  any  chance  at  all  of  a 
grapple.  From  the  wild'  burst  with  which  ye 
triumphed  at  Oulart  hill,  down  to  the  faint  gasp 
wherewith  the  last  of  your  last  column  died  in 
the  corn  fields  of  Meath,  there  is  nothing  to 
shame  your  valour,  your  faith,  or  your  pa- 
triotism. You  wanted  arms,  and  you  wanted 
leaders.  Had  you  had  them,  you  would  have 
guarded  a green  flag  in  Dublin  Castle,  a week 
after  you  beat  Walpole.  Isolated,  unorganised, 
unofhcered,  half-armed,  girt  by  a swarm  of  foes, 
you  ceased  to  fight,  but  you  neither  betrayed, 
nor  repented.  Your  sons  need  not  fear  to  speak 
of  Ninety-eight. 

You,  people  of  Wexford,  almost  all  Repealers, 
are  the  sons  of  the  men  of  ’98  ; prosperous  and 
many,  will  you  only  shout  for  Repeal,  and  line 
roads  and  tie  boughs  for  a holiday  ? Or  will 
you  press  your  organisation,  work  at  your  edu- 
cation, and  increase  your  political  power,  so  that 
your  leaders  may  know  and  act  on  the  know- 
ledge, that  come  what  may,  there  is  trust  it 
Wexford  ? 


108  LITERARY  AND  IIISTORICAIi  EtSAYI. 


TIIE  HISTORY  OF  TO-DAY. 

From  1793  to  1829 — for  thirty-six  years— -the 
Irish  Catholics  struggled  for  Emancipation.  That 
Emancipation  was  but  admission  to  the  Bench, 
the  Inner  Bar,  and  Parliament.  It  was  won  by 
self-denial,  genius,  vast  and  sustained  labours, 
and  lastly  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  forty-shilling 
freeholders — the  poor  veterans  of  the  war — and 
by  submission  to  insulting  oaths  ; yet  it  was 
cheaply  bought.  Not  so  cheaply,  perchance,  as 
if  won  by  the  sword ; for,  on  it  were  expended 
more  treasures,  more  griefs,  more  intellect, 
more  passion,  more  of  all  which  makes  life  wel- 
come, than  had  been  needed  for  war;  still  it  was 
cheaply  bought,  and  Ireland  has  glorified  herself, 
and  will  through  ages  triumph  in  the  victory 
of  ’29. 

Yet  what  was  Emancipation  compared  to 
Repeal  ? 

The  one  put  a silken  badge  on  a tew  members 
of  one  profession  ; the  other  would  give  to  all 
professions  and  all  trades  the  rank  and  riches 
which  resident  proprietors,  domestic  legislation, 
and  flourishing  commerce,  infallibly  create. 

Emancipation  made  it  possible  for  Catholics  to 
sit  on  the  judgment  seat;  but  it  left  a foreign 
administration,  which  has  excluded  them,  save 
in  two  or  three  cases,  where  over-topping  emi- 
nence made  the  acceptance  of  a J udgeship  n q 


THE  HISTOKV  OF  TO-DAY.  1 09 

promotion  ; and  it  left  the  local  Judges — those 
with  whom  the  people  has  to  deal — as  partial, 
ignorant,  and  bigotted  as  ever ; while  Repeal 
would  give  us  an  Irish  cede  and  Irish-hearted 
Judges  in  every  Court,  from  the  Chancery  to 
the  Petty  Sessions. 

Emancipation  dignified  a dozen  Catholics  with 
a senatorial  name  in  a foreign  and  hostile  Legis- 
lature. Repeal  would  give  us  a Senate,  a Mi- 
litia, an  Administration,  all  our  own. 

The  Penal  Code,  as  it  existed  since  1793,  in- 
sulted the  faith  of  the  Catholics,  restrained  their 
liberties,  and  violated  the  public  Treaty  of  Li- 
merick. The  Union  has  destroyed  our  manufac- 
tures, prohibits  our  flag,  prevents  our  commerce, 
drains  our  rental,  crushes  our  genius,  makes  our 
taxation  a tribute,  our  representation  a shadow, 
our  name  a bye-word.  It  were  nobler  to  strive 
for  Repeal  than  to  get  Emancipation. 

Four  years  &go,  the  form  of  Repeal  agitation 
began — two  years  ago,  its  reality.  Have  we  not 
cause  to  be  proud  of  the  labours  of  these  two 
years  ? If  life  be  counted,  not  by  the  rising 
of  suns,  or  the  idle  turning  of  machinery,  but 
by  the  growth  of  the  will,  and  the  progress  of 
thoughts  and  passions  in  the  soul,  we  Irishmen 
have  spent  an  age  since  we  raised  our  first  erv 
for  liberty.  Consider  what  we  were  then,  and 
what  we  have  done  since.  We  had  a People 
unorganised — disgusted  with  a Whig  alliance- 
beaten  in  a dishonourable  struggle  to  sustain  a 
faction — ignorant  of  each  others’  will — without 
books,  without  song,  without  leaders  (save  one), 
without  purposes,  without  strength,  without 


no  .LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

hope.  The  Corn-Exchange  was  the  faint  copy 
of  the  Catholic  Association,  with  a few  enthu- 
siasts, a few  loungers,  and  a few  correspondents. 
Opposite  to  us  was  tne  great  Conservative  party, 
with  a majority  exceeding  our  whole  representa- 
tion, united,  flushed,  led  by  the  craftiest  of  living 
statesmen  and  the  ablest  of  living  generals.  Oh  ! 
how  disheartening  it  was  then,  when,  day  by 
day,  we  found  prophecy  and  exhortation,  lay 
and  labour,  flung  idly  before  a distracted  People. 
May  we  never  pass  through  that  icy  ordeal 
again ! 

IIow  different  now!  The  People  are  united 
under  the  greatest  system  of  organisation  ever 
attempted  in  any  country.  They  send  in,  by 
their  Collectors,  Wardens,  and  Inspectors,  to  the 
central  office  of  Ireland,  the  contributions  needed 
to  carry  on  the  Registration  of  Voters,  the  pub- 
lic meetings,  the  publications,  the  law  expenses, 
and  the  organisation  of  the  Association  ; and 
that  in  turn  carries  on  registries,  holds  meetings, 
opens  Reading-rooms,  sends  newspapers,  and 
books,  and  political  instructions,  back  through 
the  same  channel ; so  that  the  Central  Committee 
knows  the  state  of  every  parish,  and  every  parish 
receives  the  teaching  and  obeys  the  will  of  the 
Central  Committee. 

The  Whig  Alliance  has  melted,  like  ice  before 
the  sun,  and  the  strong  souls  of  our  People  will 
never  again  serve  the  purposes  of  a faction. 

The  Conservative  party,  without  union  and 
without  principle,  is  breaking  up.  Its  English 
Section  is  dividing  into  the  tools  of  expediency 
and  the  pioneers  of  a New  Generation — its 


THE  HISTORY  OF  TO-DAY. 


Ill 


Irish  section  into  Castle  Hacks,  and  National 
Conservatives. 

Meantime,  how  much  have  the  Irish  People 
gained  and  done ! They  have  received,  and  grown 
rich  under  torrents  of  thought.  Song,  and  ser- 
mon, and  music,  speech  and  pamphlet,  novel  and 
history,  essay,  and  map,  and  picture,  have  made 
the  dull  thoughtful,  and  the  thoughtful  studious, 
jmd  will  make  the  studious  wise  and  powerful. 
They  have  begun  a system  of  self-teaching  in 
their  Reading-rooms.  If  they  carry  it,  we  shall, 
before  two  years,  have  in  every  parish  men  able 
to  manufacture,  to  trade,  and  to  farm — men  ac- 
quainted with  all  that  Ireland  was,  is,  and  should 
be — men  able  to  serve  The  Irish  Nation  in  peace 
and  war. 

In  the  teeth,  too,  of  the  Government,  we 
held  our  meetings.  They  are  not  for  this  time, 
but  they  were  right  well  in  their  own  time.  They 
showed  our  physical  force  to  the  Continent,  to 
ourselves,  to  America,  to  our  rulers.  They 
showed  that  the  People  would  come  and  go  ra- 
pidly, silently,  and  at  bidding,  in  numbers  enough 
to  recruit  a dozen  armies.  These  are  literal 
facts.  Any  one  monster  meeting  could  have 
offered  little  resistance  in  the  open  country  to  a 
‘tegular  army,  but  it  contained  the  materials — 
/he  numbers,  intelligence,  and  obedience — of  a 
conquering  host.  Whenever  the  impression  of 
their  power  grows  faint,  we  shall  revive  them 
^gain. 

The  toleration  of  these  meetings  was  the  result 
of  fear ; the  prosecution  of  their  chiefs  sprung 
from  greater  fear.  That  prosecution  was  begun 


112  LITE  It  ARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

audaciously,  was  carried  on  meanly  and  with 
virulence,  and  ended  with  a charge  and  a verdict 
which  disgraced  the  law.  An  illegal  imprison- 
ment afforded  a glorious  proof  that  the  People 
could  refrain  from  violence  under  the  worst  temp- 
tation ; that  their  leaders  were  firm  ; and,  better 
than  all,  that  had  these  leaders  been  shot,  not 
prisoned,  their  successors  were  ready.  Such  an 
imprisonment  served  Ireland  more  than  an  ac- 
quittal, for  it  tried  her  more  ; and  then  came  the 
day  of  triumph,  when  the  reluctant  constitution 
liberated  our  chiefs,  and  branded  our  oppressors. 

This  is  a history  of  two  years  never  surpassed 
in  importance  and  honour.  This  is  a history 
which  our  sons  shall  pant  over  and  envy.  This 
is  a history  which  pledges  us  to  perseverance. 
This  is  a history  which  guarantees  success. 

Energy,  patience,  generosity,  skill,  tolerance, 
enthusiasm,  created  and  decked  the  agitation. 
The  world  attended  us  with  its  thoughts  and 
prayers.  The  graceful  genius  of  Italy  and  the 
profound  intellect  of  Germany  paused  to  wish  us 
well.  The  fiery  heart  of  France  tolerated  our 
unarmed  effort,  and  proffered  its  aid.  America 
sent  us  money,  thought,  love — she  made  herself 
a part  of  Ireland  in  her  passions  and  her  orga- 
nisation. From  London  to  the  wildest  settlement 
which  throbs  in  the  tropics,  or  shivers  nigh  the 
Pole,  the  empire  of  our  misruler  was  shaken 
by  our  effort.  To  all  earth  we  proclaimed  our 
wrongs.  To  man  and  God  we  made  oath  that 
we  would  never  cease  to  strive  till  an  Irish  Na- 
tion stood  supreme  on  this  island.  The  genius 
which  roused  and  organised  us,  the  energy  which 


the  RESOURCES  OF  IRELAND, 


113 


laboured,  the  wisdom  that  taught,  the  manhood 
which  rose  up,  the  patience  which  obeyed,  the 
faith  which  swore,  and  the  valour  that  strained 
for  action,  are  here  still,  experienced,  recruited, 
resolute. 

The  future  shall  realise  the  promise  of  the 
past. 


THE  RESOURCES  OF  IRELAND/ 

Bishop  Berkeley  put,  as  a query,  could  the 
Irish  live  and  prosper  if  a brazen  wall  surrounded 
their  island  ? The  question  has  been  often  and 
vaguely  replied  to. 

Dr.  Kane  has  at  length  answered  it,  and  proved 
the  affirmative.  Confining  himself  strictly  to  the 
land  of  our  island  (for  he  does  not  enter  on  the 
subjects  of  fisheries  and  foreign  commerce,)  he 
nas  proved  that  we  possess  physical  elements  for 
every  important  art.  Not  that  he  sat  down  to 
prove  this.  Taste,  duty,  industry,  and  genius, 
prompted  and  enabled  him  gradually  to  acquire 
a knowledge  of  the  physical  products  and  powers 
of  Ireland,  and  his  mastery  of  chemical  and 
mechanical  science  enabled  him  to  see  how  these 
could  be  used. 

* The  Industrial  Resources  of  Ireland,  by  Robert 
Kane,  M.  D.,  Secretary  to  the  Council  of  the  Roya] 
Irish  Academy,  Professor  of  Natural  Philosophy  to  tha 
Royal  Dublin  Society,  and  of  Chemistry  to  the  Apothe- 
caries’ Hall  of  Ireland.  Dublin : Hodges  and  Smitht 
21,  College-green. 


114  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


Thus  qualified,  he  tried,  in  the  Lecture-room 
of  the  Dublin  Society,  to  communicate  his  know- 
ledge to  the  public.  He  was  as  successful  as  any 
man  lecturing  on  subjects  requiring  accurate 
details  could  be;  and  now  he  has  given,  in  the 
volume  before  us,  all  his  lectures,  and  much  more. 
He,  then,  is  no  party  pamphleteer,  pandering  to 
the  national  vanity ; but  a philosopher,  who 
garnered  up  his  knowledge  soberly  and  surely, 
and  now  gives  us  the  result  of  his  studies.  There 
was,  undoubtedly,  a good  deal  of  information  on 
the  subjects  treated  of  by  Dr.  Kane  scattered 
through  our  topographical  works  and  parliamen- 
tary reports,  but  that  information  is,  for  the  most 
part,  vague,  unapplied,  and  not  tested  by  science. 
Dr.  Kane’s  work  is  full,  clear,  scientific,  exact  in 
stating  places,  extent,  prices,  and  every  other 
working  detail,  and  is  a manual  of  the  whole 
subject. 

In  such  interlaced  subjects  as  industrial  re- 
sources we  must  be  content  with  practical  classi- 
fications. 

Dr.  Kane  proceeds  in  the  following  order: — 
First,  he  considers  the  mechanical  powers  of  the 
country — viz.,  its  fuel  and  its  water  powers. 
Secondly,  its  mineral  resources — its  iron,  copper, 
lead,  sulphur,  marble,  slates,  &c.  Thirdly,  the 
agriculture  of  the  country  in  its  first  function — 
the  raising  of  food,  and  the  modes  of  cropping, 
manuring,  draining,  and  stacking.  Fourthly, 
agriculture  in  its  secondary  use,  as  furnishing 
staples  for  the  manufacture  of  woollens,  linens, 
starch,  sugar,  spirits,  &c.  Fifthly,  the  modes  of 
carrying  internal  trade  by  roads,  canals,  and  rail* 


THE  RESOURCES  OF  IRELAND.  1 15 

ways.  Sixthly,  the  cost  and  condition  of  skilled 
and  unskilled  labour  in  Ireland.  Seventhly,  our 
state  as  to  capital.  And  he  closes  by  some 
earnest  and  profound  thoughts  on  the  need  of 
industrial  education  in  Ireland. 

Now,  let  us  ask  the  reader  what  he  knows 
upon  any  or  all  of  these  subjects;  and  whether 
he  ought,  as  a citizen,  or  a man  of  education,  or 
a man  of  business,  to  be  ignorant  of  them  ? Such 
ignorance  as  exists  here  must  be  got  rid  of,  or 
our  cry  of  “ Ireland  for  the  Irish”  will  be  a whine 
or  a brag,  and  will  be  despised  as  it  deserves. 
We  must  know  Ireland  from  its  history  to  its 
minerals,  from  its  tillage  to  its  antiquities,  before 
we  shall  be  an  Irish  nation,  able  to  rescue  and 
keep  the  country.  And  if  we  are  too  idle,  too 
dull,  or  too  capricious  to  learn  the  arts  of  strength, 
wealth,  and  liberty,  let  us  not  murmur  at  being 
slaves. 

For  the  present,  we  shall  confine  ourselves  to 
the  subjects  of  the  mechanical  powers  and  mi- 
nerals of  Ireland,  as  treated  by  Dr.  Kane. 

The  first  difference  between  manufactures  now, 
and  in  any  former  time,  is  the  substitution  of 
machines  for  the  hands  of  man.  It  may,  indeed, 
be  questioned  whether  the  increased  strength 
over  matter  thus  given  to  man  compensates  for 
the  ill  effects  of  forcing  people  to  work  in  crowds  ; 
of  destroying  small  and  pampering  large  capi* 
talists,  of  lessening  the  distribution  of  wealth 
even  by  the  very  means  which  increase  its  pro- 
duction. 

We  sincerely  lament,  with  Lord  Wharncliffe, 


i 1 6 LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


the  loss  of  domestic  manufactures ; we  would 
prefer  one  house-wife  skilled  in  the  distafF  and 
the  dairy — home-bred,  and  home-taught,  and 
home-faithful — to  a factory  full  of  creatures  who 
live  amid  the  eternal  roll,  and  clash,  and  glim- 
mer of  spindles  and  rollers,  watching  with  aching 
eyes  the  thousand  twirls,  and  capable  of  but  one 
act — tying  the  broken  threads.  We  abhor  that 
state  ; we  prefer  the  life  of  the  old  times,  or  of 
modern  Norway. 

But,  situated  as  we  are,  so  near  a strong 
enemy,  and  in  the  new  highway  from  Europe  to 
America,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  we  can 
retain  our  simple  domestic  life.  There  is  but 
one  chance  for  it.  If  the  Prussian  Tenure  Code 
be  introduced,  and  the  people  turned  into  small 
proprietors,  there  is  much,  perhaps  every  hope 
of  retaining  or  regaining  our  homestead  habits, 
and  such  a population  need  fear  no  enemy. 

If  this  do  not  come  to  pass,  we  must  make  the 
best  of  our  state,  join  our  chief  towns  with  rail- 
ways, put  quays  to  our  harbours,  mills  on  our 
rivers,  turbines  on  our  coasts,  and  under  restric- 
tions and  with  guarantees  set  the  steam-engine 
to  work  at  our  flax,  wool,  and  minerals. 

The  two  great  mechanical  powers  are  fire  and 
water.  Ireland  is  nobly  endowed  with  both. 

We  do  not  possess  as  ample  fields  of  flaming 
coal  as  Britain  ; but  even  of  that  we  have  large 
quantities,  which  can  be  raised  at  about  the  same 
rate  at  which  English  coal  can  be  landed  on  our 
coast. 

The  chief  seats  of  flaming  coal  in  Ireland  are 


THE  RESOURCES  OF  IRELAND.  1)7 

to  the  west  of  Lough  Allen,  in  Connaught,  and 
around  Dungannon,  in  Tyrone.  There  is  a small 
district  of  it  in  Antrim. 

The  stone  coal,  or  anthracite,  which  having 
little  gas.  does  not  blaze,  and  having  much  sulphur 

disagreeable  in  a room,  and  has  been  thought 
unfit  for  smelting,  is  found — first,  in  the  Kil- 
kenny district,  between  the  Nore  and  Barrow — 
secondly,  from  Freshford  to  Cashel ; and  thirdly, 
in  the  great  Munster  coal  country,  cropping  up 
in  every  barony  of  Clare,  Limerick,  Cork,  and 
Kerry.  By  the  use  of  vapour  with  it,  the  anthra- 
cite appears  to  be  freed  from  all  its  defects  as  a 
smelting  and  engine  coal,  and  being  a much  more 
pure  and  powerful  fuel  than  the  flaming  coal, 
there  seems  no  reason  to  doubt  that  in  it  we  have 
a manufacturing  power  that  would  supply  as  for 
generations. 

Our  bogs  have  not  been  done  justice  to.  The 
use  of  turf  in  a damp  state  turns  it  into  an  in- 
ferior fuel.  Dried  under  cover,  or  broken  up 
and  dried  under  pressure,  it  is  more  economical, 
because  far  more  efficient.  It  is  used  now  in  the 
Shannon  steamers,  and  its  use  is  increasing  in 
mills.  For  some  purposes  it  is  peculiarly  good— 
thus,  for  the  finer  iron  works,  turf,  and  turf- 
charcoal  are  even  better  than  wood,  and  Dr. 
Kane  shows  that  the  precious  Baltic  iron,  for 
which  from  15/.  to  35/.  per  ton  is  given,  could  be 
equalled  by  Irish  iron  smelted  by  Irish  turf  for 
six  guineas  per  ton. 

Dr.  Kane  proves  that  the  cost  of  fuel,  even  if 
greater  in  Ireland,  by  no  means  precludes  us 
from  competing  with  England;  he  does  so*bj 


118  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


showing  that  the  cost  of  fuel  in  English  factorial 
is  only  from  1 to  li  per  cent.,  while  in  Ireland 
it  would  be  only  2^  to  3^  per  cent. — a different 
greatly  overbalanced  by  our  cheaper  labour, 
labour  being  over  33  per  cent,  of  the  whole  ex- 
pense of  a factory. 

Here  is  the  analysis  of  the  cost  of  producing 
cotton  in  England  in  1830: — 


Cotton  wool  

Wages  

Interest  on  capital 
Coals 

Rent,  taxes,  insu- 
rance, other  charges 
and  profit  


£8,244,693  or  per  cent.  26*27 
10,419,000  ” 3316 

3,400,000  ” 1084 

339,680  ” 1*08 


8,935,320  * 28*65 


£31,338,693  10000 

In  water-power  we  are  still  better  off.  Dr. 
Kane  calculates  the  rain  which  falls  on  Ireland 
in  a year  at  over  100  billion  cubic  yards  ; and  of 
this  he  supposes  two-thirds  to  pass  off  in  evapora- 
tion, leaving  one-third,  equal  to  near  a million 
and  a half  of  horse  power,  to  reach  the  sea.  His 
calculations  of  the  water-power  of  the  Shannon 
and  other  rivers  are  most  interesting.  The  ele- 
ments, of  course,  are  the  observed  fall  of  rain  by 
the  gauge  in  the  district,  and  the  area  of  the 
catchment  (or  drainage)  basins  of  each  river  and 
its  tributaries.  The  chief  objection  to  water- 
power is  its  irregularity.  To  remedy  this  he 
proposes  to  do  what  has  increased  the  water' 
power  on  the  Bann  five-fold,  and  has  made  the 
wealth  of  Greenock — namely,  to  make  mill-lake* 
by  damming  up  valleys,  and  thus  controlling  aiv$ 
equalising  the  supply  of  water,  aad  letting  noon 


f HE  RESOURCES  OF  IRELAND. 


119 


go  waste.  His  calculations  of  tlie  relative  merits 
of  undershot,  overshot,  breast,  and  turbine  wheels, 
are  most  valuable,  especially  of  the  last,  which  is 
a late  and  successful  French  contrivance,  acting 
hy  pressure.  He  proposes  to  use  the  turbine  in 
toast  mills,  the  tide  being  the  motive  power*, 
and,  strange  as  it  sounds,  the  experiments  seem 
io  decide  in  favour  of  this  plan. — 

“ The  Turbine  was  invented  by  M.  Fourneyron. 
Coals  being  abundant,  the  steam-engine  is  invented  in 
England ; coals  being  scarce,  the  water-pressure  engine 
and  the  turbine  are  invented  in  France.  It  is  thus  the 
physical  condition  of  each  country  directs  its  mechanical 
genius.  The  turbine  is  a horizontal  wheel  furnished 
with  curved  float-boards,  on  which  the  water  presses 
from  a cylinder  which  is  suspended  over  the  wheel,  and 
the  base  of  which  is  divided  by  curved  partitions,  that 
the  water  may  be  directed  in  issuing,  so  as  to  produce 
upon  the  curved  float  boards  of  the  wheel  its  greatest 
effect.  The  best  curvature  to  be  given  to  the  fixed  parti- 
tions and  to  the  float-boards  is  a delicate  problem,  but 
practically  it  has  been  completely  solved.  The  con- 
struction of  the  machine  is  simple,  its  parts  not  liable  to 
go  out  of  order ; and  as  the  action  of  the  water  is  by 
pressure,  the  force  is  under  the  most  favourable  circum- 
stances for  being  utilized. 

“The  effective  economy  of  the  turbine  appears  to  equal 
that  of  the  overshot  wheel.  But  this  economy  in  the 
turbine  is  accompanied  by  some  conditions  which  render 
it  peculiarly  valuable.  In  a water  wheel  you  cannot 
have  great  economy  of  power  without  very  slow  motion, 
and  hence  where  high  velocity  is  required  at  the  working 
point,  a train  of  mechanism  is  necessary,  which  causes  a 
material  loss  of  force.  Now,  in  the  turbine  the  greatest 
economy  is  accompanied  by  rapid  motion,  and  hence 
the  connected  machinery  may  be  rendered  much  less 
complex.  In  the  turbine  also  a change  in  the  height  of 
the  head  of  water  alters  only  the  power  of  the  machine 
in  that  proportion,  but  ^ whol»  quantity  of  water  if 


120  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

ecor.^ijced  to  the  same  degree.  Thus  if  a turbine  b< 
v/orjL&g  with  a force  of  ten  horses,  and  that  its  supply 
of  ^ier  be  suddenly  doubled,  it  becomes  of  twenty 
hor«e  power;  if  the  supply  be  reduced  to  one-half,  it 
still  works  five  horse  power:  whilst  such  sudden  and 
extreme  change  would  altogether  disarrange  water 
wheels,  which  can  only  be  constructed  for  the  minimum, 
and  allow  the  overplus  to  go  to  waste.” 

Our  own  predilection  being  in  favour  of  water- 
power— as  cheaper,  healthier,  and  more  fit  for 
Ireland  than  steam — gave  the  following  peculiar 
interest  in  our  eyes  : — 

“I  have  noticed  at  such  length  the  question  of  the 
cost  of  fuel  and  of  steam  power,  not  from  my  own  opinion 
of  its  ultimate  importance,  but  that  we  might  at  once 
break  down  that  barrier  to  all  active  exertion  which  in- 
dolent ignorance  constantly  retreats  behind.  The  cry 
of,  ‘what  can  we  do?  consider  England’s  coal  mines,’  is 
answered  by  showing  that  we  have  available  fuel  enough. 
The  lament  that  coals  are  so  dear  with  us  and  so  cheap 
in  England,  is,  I trust,  set  at  rest  by  the  evidence  of 
how  little  influential  the  price  of  fuel  is.  However, 
there  are  other  sources  of  power  besides  coals ; there  are 
other  motive  powers  than,  steam.  Of  the  83,000  horse 
power  employed  to  give  motion  to  mills  in  England, 
21,000,  even  in  the  coal  districts,  are  not  moved  by  fire 
but  by  fire  water.  The  force  of  gravity  in  falling  water 
can  spin  and  wave  as  well  as  the  elasticity  of  steam  ; and 
in  this  power  we  are  not  deficient.  It  is  necessary  to 
study  its  circumstances  in  detail,  and  I shall,  therefore 
next  proceed  to  discuss  the  condition  of  Ireland  with 
regard  to  water  power.” 

Dr.  Kane  proves  that  we  have  at  Arigna  an 
inexhaustible  supply  of  the  richest  iron  ore,  with 
coaia  to  smelt  it,  lime  to  flux  it,  and  infusible 
fi&.jn-sione  and  fire-clay  to  make  furnaces  of  on 
th©  ojpdt.  Yet  not  a pig  or  bar  is  made  there 


THE  RESOURCES  OF  IRELAND. 


12. 


now.  He  also  gives  in  great  detail  the  extent, 
Analysis,  costs  of  working,  and  every  other  leading 
fact,  as  to  the  copper  mines  of  Wicklow,  Knock- 
mahon,  and  Allihies ; the  lead,  gold,  and  sulphur 
mines  of  Wicklow  ; the  silver  mines  of  Bally- 
lichey,  and  details  of  the  building  materials  and 
marbles. 

He  is  everywhere  precise  in  his  industrial  and 
scientific  statements,  and  beautifully  clear  in  his 
style  and  arrangement. 

Why,  then,  are  we  a poor  province?  Dr. 
Kane  quotes  Forbes,  Quetelet,  &c.,  to  prove  the 
physical  strength  of  our  people.  He  might  have 
quoted  every  officer  who  commanded  them  to 
prove  their  courage  and  endurance ; nor  is  there 
much  doubt  expressed  even  by  their  enemies  of 
their  being  quick  and  inventive.  Their  soil  is 
productive — the  rivers  and  harbours  good — their 
fishing  opportunities  great — so  is  their  means  of 
making  internal  communications  across  their 
great  central  plains.  We  have  immense  water, 
and  considerable  fire  power ; and,  besides  the 
minerals  necessary  for  the  arts  of  peace,  we  are 
better  supplied  than  almost  any  country  with  the 
finer  sorts  of  iron,  charcoal,  and  sulphur,  where- 
with war  is  now  carried  on.  Why  is  it,  with 
these  means  of  amassing  and  guarding  wealth, 
that  we  are  so  poor  and  paltry  ? Dr.  Kane  seems 
\o  think  we  are  so  from  industrial  education. 
He  is  partly  right.  The  remote  causes  were 
repeated  foreign  invasion,  forfeiture,  and  tyran- 
nous laws.  Ignorance,  disunion,  self-distrust, 
quick  credulity,  and  caprice,  were  the  weaknessea 
engendered  in  us  by  misfortune  and  misgovern- 


122  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

ment ; and  they  were  then  the  allies  of  oppression ; 
for,  had  we  been  willing,  we  had  long  ago  been 
rich  and  free.  Knowledge  is  now  within  our 
reach,  if  we  work  steadily ; and  strength  of 
character  will  grow  upon  us,  by  every  month  of 
perseverance  and  steadiness  in  politics,  trade, 
and  literature. 


IRISH  TOPOGRAPHY. 

Complaints  had  frequently  been  made  of  the 
inequality  of  the  grand  jury  taxation  before  any 
attempt  was  made  to  remedy  it.  The  committee 
on  grand  jury  presentments,  in  their  report, 
dated  12th  June,  1815,  stated  that  these  com- 
plaints were  well  founded,  and  recommended 
“ that  some  mode  should  be  devised  for  render- 
ing such  assessments  more  equal,  the  defect  ap- 
pearing to  them  to  arise,  in  a great  degree,  from 
the  levy  being  made  in  reference  to  old  surveys 
(which  were  taken  on  the  measure  of  land  which 
was  deemed  profitable  at  the  time  of  such  sur- 
veys), which,  of  course,  cannot  comprehend  the 
great  improvements  which  have  taken  place  in 
Ireland  since  the  period  at  which  these  surveys 
took  place.” 

Though  some  of  the  evidence  given  before  that 
committee  displays  a remarkable  ignorance  of 
this  and  many  other  facts,  yet  the  fact  itself  of 
the  oppressive  inequality  was  put  beyond  doubt 
by  the  evidence  of  Daniel  Mussenden,  Esq., 


IRISH  TOPOGRAPHY. 


123 


C.  P.  Leslie,  Esq.,  Right  Hon.  Denis  Browne, 
Colonel  Crosbie,  General  Archdall,  &c. 

It  appears,  from  their  evidence,  that  the  grand 
jury  cess  was  in  some  places  distributed  in  equal 
shares  over  districts  of  a size  and  value  often  dif- 
ferring  as  one  from  six,  and  in  other  places  distri- 
buted in  unequal  shares,  bearing  no  obvious 
proportion  to  the  size  or  value  of  the  different 
districts. 

These  districts  were  generally  called  town- 
lands,  sometimes  ploughlands,  cartrons,1’  carvas, 
tates,  &c.  Most  of  the  witnesses  fancied  that 
these  divisions  had  been  originally  equal,  and 
made  by  James  I.,  or  Strafford,  Sir  W.  Petty,  or 
William  III. 

Mr.  Mussenden  suggested  that  they  were  made 
by  the  old  Irish.  It  is  possible  that  the  Con- 
naught divisions  may  have  been  affected  by  the 
Strafford  survey,  now  lost ; Ulster  by  the  settle- 
ment in  James’s  time,  and  many  parts  of  Mun- 
ster, Leinster,  and  Connaught,  by  the  forfeitures 
and  divisions  in  William’s,  Cromwell’s,  Charles’s, 
James’s,  and  Elizabeth’s  times,  or  even  by  those 
of  earlier  date.  With  respect  to  these,  we  would 
remark  that  the  forfeitures  were  according  to 
previous  divisions,  and  so  the  grants  generally 
were. 

Some  of  the  townlands,  from  their  names,  seem 
to  have  been  household  lands  of  princes,  other 
hospitality  lands  attached  to  the  caravanserais 
which  the  ancient  Irish  so ’liberally  endowed; 
but  most  of  them  must  be  accounted  for  in  other 
ways.  If  these  divisions  grew  marked  in  the 
middle  ages,  we  should  be  disposed  to  say  that 


4 LITER  A. It Y AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

each  was  the  possession  of  a large  family  or  small 
sept,  by  the  aggregation  of  many  of  which  the 
great  princedoms  were  made  up.  If  these  names 
and  divisions  are  of  older  date  (as  we  believe), 
then  they  either  originated  in,  or  were  used  for, 
the  annual  distribution  of  lands  which  was  cus- 
tomary under  the  Brehon  law  ; and  in  either 
case  were  likely  to  have  been  continued  during 
the  middle  ages  for  family  purposes. 

And  here  we  would  remark  that  this  annual 
distribution  of  land  has  been  foolishly  censured. 
The  Irish  then  lived  partly  as  hunters — chiefly 
as  shepherds  and  herds— very  little  as  tillers. 
The  annual  distribution  of  grazing  land  seems 
not  so  unreasonable,  nor  could  it  have  been  at- 
tended with  the  wasteful  and  disastrous  results 
supposed  to  result  from  changeful  tenures  of  til- 
lage lands. 

In  a second  report,  in  1818,  the  Grand  Jury 
Presentment  Committee  urged  the  immediate  and 
complete  alteration  of  the  system,  and,  in  1819, 
a bill  for  the  survey  and  valuation  of  Ireland 
was  brought  in.  But  this  bill  was  soon  aban- 
doned. 

In  1824  the  subject  was  taken  up  in  good  ear- 
nest. The  Commons  resolved  that  “ it  is  expe- 
dient, for  the  purpose  of  apportioning  more 
equally  the  local  burthens  of  Ireland,  to  provide 
for  a general  survey  and  valuation  of  that  part 
of  the  United  Kingdom.”  Accordingly  it  voted 
£5,000  towards  a trigonometrical  survey,  and 
appointed  an  active  and  fair  committee  “ to  con- 
sider of  the  best  mode  of  apportioning  more 
equally  the  local  burthens  collected  in  Ireland, 


IRISH  TOPOGRAPH!. 


125 


and  to  provide  for  a general  survey  and  valuation 
of  that  part  of  the  United  Kingdom.” 

The  committee  sat  and  received  the  evidence 
of  Major  Colby  (now,  and  then,  head  of  the  sur- 
vey in  both  kingdoms),  Lieutenant  Colonel 
Keane,  Mr.  Spring  Rice,  (now  Lord  Monteagle), 
Mr.  Leslie  Foster  (late  Baron  of  the  Exchequer), 
Mr.  John  Wilson  Croker,  Mr.  Richard  Griffiths 
(since  intrusted  with  the  valuation  of  Ireland), 
Messrs.  Bald,  Nimmo,  Edgeworth,  and  Aher, 
civil  engineers,  Captain  Kater,  and  many  others. 
It  reported  on  the  21st  of  June,  1824. 

The  report  states  that  the  grand  jury  taxes  for 
the  preceding  year  were  over  £750,000,  and  that 
the  assessment  of  this  was  most  unequal  and 
unjust,  for  the  reasons  before  stated. 

The  committee  speak  separately  on  the  survey 
and  valuation. 

The  most  material  part  of  their  Report  on  the 
Survey  is  as  follows  : — 

They  state  the  surface  of  Ireland  at  about 
twelve  millions  Irish,  or  twenty  millions  English, 
acres,  divided  in  four  provinces,  thirty-two  coun- 
ties at  large,  eight  counties  of  cities  or  towns 
or  other  independent  jurisdictions,  two  hundred 
and  fifty-two  baronies,  about  two  thousand  four 
hundred  parishes,  and  an  immense  number  of 
townlands  or  minor  sub-divisions. 

The  existing  surveys  they  describe  as  few  and 
defective.  They  omit  any  notice  of  the  survey 
of  Ulster  made  in  1618-19,  under  royal  commis- 
sion, by  Pymar  and  others,  and  printed  in  the 
first  part  of  Harris’s  collection  of  tracts  on  Ire 
land,  entitled  Hihernica . 


126  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS 

They  state,  on  Mr.  Nimmo’s  authority,  that 
* Strafford’s  Survey  of  the  Forfeited  Lands”  was 
a memoir,  terrier,  or  written  description,  accom- 
panied by  outline  maps,  and  that  all  these  docu- 
ments have  perished. 

Mr.  Ilardiman,  in  a paper  on  Irish  maps, 
printed  in  the  fourteenth  volume  of  the  Trans- 
actions of  the  Irish  Academy,  states  that  surveys 
had  been  made  of  Ireland  by  the  Irish  monarchs, 
that  fragments  of  these  remain,  and  that  in  one 
of  them,  by  Fenton,  some  allusion  to  a map  seems 
to  be  made.  If  such  ever  existed,  it  no  longer 
does. 

The  earliest  published  map  of  Ireland,  accor- 
ding to  Mr.  Nimmo,  is  that  in  the  “ Itinerary  of 
Antonine,”  published  by  Ricardus  Corinensis  in 
the  fourteenth  century,  and  taken  from  the  table 
of  latitudes  and  longitudes,  made  by  Ptolemy. 
Ware  notices  that  Ptolemy  places  Mona,  Man, 
&c.,  among  the  isles  of  Ireland,  and  adds  that 
Macianus  (in  Periplo)  says  that  Ireland  had  six- 
teen provinces,  fifteen  famous  cities,  five  noted 
promontories,  anil  six  eminent  islands. 

Mercator  and  Hondius  published  an  inferior 
map,  taken  chiefly  from  Norse  and  Danish  au- 
thorities. Mr.  Bald  refers  to  a map  of  Ireland 
of  the  fourteenth  century,  contained  in  “ Arrow- 
smith’s  Memoir but  whether  this  is  Ricardus’s 
or  not,  we  do  not  know — neither  can  we  get  in 
Dublin  “ Arrowsmith’s  Memoir,”  or  “ Ricar- 
dus’s map.”  But  Bertram,  who  re-printed  Ri- 
cardus, Nennius,  and  Gildas,  in  1755,  gives  an 
original  and  highly  interesting  map  of  Ireland 
Mercator  was  only  copied  until  Elizabeth’s  time, 


IRISH  TOPOGRAPHY.  127 

when  a map  fourteen  English  miles  to  one  inch, 
was  published. 

Then  follow  Speed’s  in  1610,  of  Ireland  and 
of  the  four  provinces,  Richard  Blome’s  and  Straf- 
ford’s, before  alluded  to. 

In  the  State  Papers  (temp.  Henry  VIII.)  there 
are  three  Irish  maps,  for  the  first  time  printed 
from  old  MSS.  maps.  The  first  of  these  is  a map 
of  Munster,  the  date  of  which  is  only  shown  by 
its  being  noted  in  Lord  Burleigh’s  hand.  The  se- 
cond is  a map  of  all  Ireland,  made  by  John  Goghe 
in  1557  ; and  the  third  is  also  a map  of  Ireland, 
made  by  John  Morden,  for  the  Earl  of  Salisbury, 
in  1609.  All  these  contain  clan  names;  one  of 
them  has  the  arms  of  the  principal  families,  and 
they  all,  besides  written  names,  contain  topogra- 
phical maps  of  much  antiquarian  value. 

In  the  Pacata  Hibernia , edited  by  Stafford  in 
1633,  there  are  maps  of  Ireland,  of  Munster,  and 
fifteen  plans  of  different  places  in  Munster, 
roughly  engraved,  but  usefully  drawn  as  picture- 
maps  or  panoramas — the  best  style  for  small 
plans  at  least,  and  lately  revived  on  the  conti- 
nent in  the  panoramas  of  Switzerland,  the  Rhine, 
&c. 

Danville  contains  a map  of  ancient  Ireland, 
and  he  and  Beaufort,  and  many  others  published, 
made  up  maps  of  Ireland  in  the  middle  ages. 
Ware,  too,  in  his  antiquities,  prints  a map  of  an~ 
cient  Ireland,  made  from  Ptolemy,  Camden,  and 
in  one  place  from  Orosius. 

We  now  come  to  the  celebrated  Down  Survey. 
It  was  executed  by  Sir  William  Petty,  Physician 
General,  under  a commission,  dated  1 1 th  Da- 


128  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

cember,  1654,  at  the  payment  of  20$.  a-day  and 
\d.  an  acre.  Petty  got  a lot  of  Cromwellian  sol- 
diers into  training  in  two  months,  and  then  sur- 
veyed all  the  forfeited  lands.  These  soldiers  used 
the  chain  and  circumferentor,  and  their  measure- 
ments were  sent  to  Dublin,  and  there  plotted  or 
laid  down  on  paper,  whence  the  work  is  called 
The  Down  Survey. 

This  Survey  contained  both  barony  and  parish 
maps  of  two-thirds  of  Ireland  ; the  former  on  a 
scale  of  forty  perches  to  an  inch,  containing 
parish  and  townland  boundaries,  mountain  and 
bog  marks,  &c.  1430  maps  remain  in  the  Re- 

cord Tower — of  these  260  are  baronial,  1170 
parochial.  130  baronial  maps  a.e  perfect,  67 
partially  burned,  2 or  3 are  “missing.”  780  pa- 
rochial are  perfect,  391  partly  burnt  in  171 1.  A 
copy  of  the  baronial  maps  exists  in  Paris  in  the 
King’s  Library,  having  been  taken  by  a privateer 
when  on  their  way  to  England  for  Sir  W.  Petty, 
and  tracings  of  these  were  made  by  General 
Vallancey  and  Major  Taylor.  In  the  Queen’s 
Inns  is  copied  his  account  of  this  survey.  All 
Petty’s  maps  have  marginal  descriptions  and  re- 
ferences to  the  “Book  of  Distributions”  of  the 
forfeitures.  These  maps  are  evidence  between 
the  crown  and  subject,  and  between  two  subjects 
holding  as  grantees  from  the  crown  by  that  dis- 
tribution. There  are  some  maps  relating  to,  or 
part  of  this,  said  to  be  in  the  Landsdowne  Col- 
\ection. 

Sir  William  Petty  published  a folio  “ County 
Atlas” — so  did  Mr.  Pratt.  A miniature  “Ceunty 
Atlas”  was  printed  in  London,  in  1720,  by 


IRISH  TOPOGRAPHY 


lag 


Howies,  taken  from  Petty  and  Pratt.  The  latest 
“ County  Atlas”  is  the  meagre  one  published 
with  Lewis’s  “ Topographical  Dictionary.” 

The  next  official  survey  was  that  of  the  lands 
forfeited  in  William’s  time,  composing  about  two 
millibns  acres.  It  is  lodged  in  the  vice-trea- 
surer’s office. 

The  following  lists  of  maps  and  surveys  was 
given  in  by  Mr.  Bald  as  part  of  his  evidence 

“A  map  of  Ireland  in  1716,  by  Thomas  Bakewill, 
who  also  issued  a map  of  the  city  of  Dublin. 

Herman  Moll  gave  a map  of  Ireland. 

Ortelinus  (Charles  O’Connor’s)  map  of  Ireland,  with 
the  names  of  the  septs  at  the  beginning  of  the  17th 
century. 

Ditto,  improved,  containing  proprietors’  names  in 
1777,  (Note  too,  that  this  has  been  re-printed  in  Mad- 
den’s United  Irishmen — 2nd  series.) 

Ireland,  by  Pratt,  six  sheets. 


Ditto, 

J.  Rocque,  four  sheets. 

Ditto, 

C.  Bowles,  four  sheets. 

Ditto, 

Jeffries,  one  sheet. 

Dit*0, 

Kitchin,  one  sheet. 

Ditto, 

Major  Taylor,  one  sheet,  1793. 

Ditto, 

Beaufort,  two  sheets,  1793,  accompanied 
by  a very  bad  memoir. 

Ditto, 

Arrowsmith,  four  sheets,  1811,  reprinted 
frequently  since. 

Skinner’s  map  of  Irish  roads,  in  1777. 

Taylor  and 

We  may  add,  Ireland,  by  Overdon  and  Morgan;  do., 
by  Senex,  &c.,  in  1711. 

COUNTY  MAPS  OF  IRELAND. 

County  of  Dublin,  published  in  1760,  by  John  Rocque, 
%cale  not  quite  six  inches  to  three  English  miles. 

Survey  of  the  county  of  Dublin,  by  William  Duncan, 
principal  draughtsman  to  the  quarter-master-general  oi 
Ireland,  published  in  1821,  scale  three  inches  to  one 
mile,  and  has  been  constructed  on  trigonometrical  prin- 
ciples. 


130  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


County  of  Louth,  surveyed  by  Taylor  and  Skinner  in 
1777,  scale  two  inches  to  one  mile. 

A survey  of  Louth,  by  Mr.  John  M‘Neill. 

County  of  Armagh,  surveyed  by  John  llocque,  seal*? 
two  inches  to  one  mile ; states  the  impossibility  of  find- 
ing the  barony  bounds,  and  had  recourse  to  Sir  William 
Petty’s  surveys. 


Wexford,  surveyed  by  Valentine  Gill,  four  sheets. 

Westmeath, 

by  Wm.  Larkin,  since  1800" 

Meath, 

do. 

do. 

Scale  of  the 

Waterford, 

do. 

do. 

published 

Leitrim, 

do. 

do. 

1 

► maps,  two 

Sligo, 

do. 

do. 

inches  to 

Galway, 

do. 

do. 

one  mile. 

Cavan, 

do. 

do. 

All  Mr.  Larkin’s  county  surveys 

were 

protracted  from 

a scale  of  four  inches  to  one  Irish  mile,  but  do  not 
appear  to  have  been  constructed  from  triangular  mea- 
surements. 

Cork,  surveyed  by  Edwards  and  Savage  in  181 1. 

Londonderry,  by  the  Rev.  G.  V.  Sampson  in  1813, 
accompanied  by  a statistical  memoir;  sections  on  the 
map,  scale  two  inches  to  one  mile. 

Longford,  surveyed  by  William  Edgeworth.  This 
map  was  constructed  from  trigonometrical  data. 

Roscommon,  by  Messrs.  Edgeworth  and  Griffiths. 
This  survey  has  been  done  trigonometrically.  The  en- 
graving was  executed  in  a most  superior  manner. 

County  of  Down,  scale  one  inch  to  a mile ; publisned 
in  1755.  Hills  drawn  in  profile  ; no  surveyor’s  name  to 
the  map ; it  has  soundings  along  the  coast. 

County  of  Down,  by  Williamson,  1810. 

Antrim,  by  John  Lendrick,  in  1780. 

Kildare,  by  Major  Alexander  Taylor,  in  1783.  Scale 
one  inch  and  half  to  a mile. 

Kerry,  by  Pelham. 

Ditto,  by  Porter. 

Wicklow,  by  Jacob  Neville,  in  1700. 

Clare,  by  Henry  Pelham,  in  1787.  Scale  one  inch 
and  half  to  the  Irish  mile. 

Kilkenny  has  been  surveyed  by  Mr.  David  Aher  is 
town  lands 


J 


IRISH  TOPOGRAPHY, 


131 


Limerick,  King's  County,  Donegal,  Fermanagh,  Mo- 
naghan, Carlow,  Queen’s  County,  Tipperary,  Mayo,  and 
King’s  County  have  all  been  surveyed. 

CHARTS. 

Chart  ot  nenmare  River,  by  William  Irwin,  1749. 

Mr.  Murdoch  M‘Kenzie  made  a general  survey  of  the 
whole  harbours,  bays,  and  shores  of  Ireland,  on  the 
scale  of  one  inch  to  an  English  mile,  with  general  charts, 
in  two  volumes.  ' By  the  date  of  the  variation  in  1759, 
it  appears  he  was  engaged  about  sixteen  years.  His 
sailing  directions  are  valuable ; and  although  the  outline 
of  the  coast  is  faulty,  yet  all  chart-makers  have  conti- 
nued to  copy  his  soundings. 

Chart  of  Dublin  Bay,  by  Seal  &ad  Richards,  1765. 

Do.  of  the  Shannon,  by  Cowan,  1795,  two  inches  and 
a half  to  an  Irish  mile. 

Do.  of  Dublin  Bay,  by  Captain  Bligh. 

Several  charts  of  the  harbours  on  the  east  coast  of 
Ireland  have  been  published  by  the  Fishery  Board; 
they  were  surveyed  under  the  direction  of  Mr.  Nimmo, 
and  are  among  the  finest  engraved  specimens  of  our 
hydrographic  surveys  yet  published. 

Chart  of  Lough  Derg,  by  Longfield  and  Murray. 

Chart  of  Lough  Ree.” 

Rocque  was  a pupil  of  Cassini,  the  astronomer 
and  topographist,  and  came  to  Ireland  in  1752. 
Mr.  Nimmo  states  that  he  founded  a class  of 
surveyors  and  valuators,  represented  in  1824  by 
Messrs.  Brassington,  Sherrard,  &c. ; highly  re- 
spectable, . but  who,  not  having  much  science,  use 
only  the  circumferentor,  chain  and  level.  He 
added  that  the  hydrographical  survey  of  Dublin 
Coast,  by  Scale  and  Richards’  pupils  of  that  old 
French  school  was  “ respectable.’’ 

The  survey  of  the  forfeited  estates  in  Scotland 
founded  a school  with  more  science,  using  the 
theodolite,  &c.  Among  its  pupils  were  Messrs 


£32  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  FSSAY9. 

Taylor,  who,  with  Skinner,  surveyed  the  roadt 
of  Ireland,  Scotland,  and  part  of  England,  and 
by  others  of  this  school  the  post-office  road  sur 
veys  were  made. 

Messrs.  Nimmo  and  Bald,  Scotchmen,  Vig- 
noles,  an  Englishman,  and  Messrs.  Griffiths, 
Edgeworth,  Aher,  and  M'Neill,  Irishmen,  and 
all  men  of  very  high  abilities  and  science,  bring 
down  the  pedigree  of  civil  topography  in  Ireland 
to  our  time. 

Among  the  greatest  topographical  works  of 
these  men  were  the  Bog  Maps  (four  inches  to 
the  mile)  ; Mr.  NimiWs  cdast  and  harbour  sur- 
veys for  the  Fishery  Board  ; Mr.  Vignoles’  sur- 
veys for  the  Railway  Commission,  and  Mr.  Bald’s 
superb  map  of  Mayo,  on  a scale  of  four  inches 
to  the  mile,  shaded,  lithographed  beautifully  in 
Paris,  and  accompanied  by  raised  models  of  the 
actual  shape  of  parts  of  the  county.  Numerous 
other  surveys  and  maps  were  made  by  these 
gentlemen,  and  by  Mr.  Griffiths,  &c.,  for  the 
Board  of  Works,  the  Woods  and  Forests,  the 
Shannon  Commissioners,  and  various  other  pub- 
lic departments. 

The  Ordnance  made  a slight  military  survey 
by  order  of  the  Irish  Parliament.  At  the  head 
of  it  was  General  Yallancey,  assisted  by  Colonel 
Tarrant  and  Major  Taylor  ; but  the  witnesses  in 
1824  treat  it  slightingly. 

The  present  survey  has.  besides  its  own  unri- 
valled maps,  given  materials  for  several  others. 
Amongst  these  are  the  maps  in  the  census  report, 
shaded  to  represent  the  density  of  population, 
the  diffusion  of  houses,  of  stock,  and  of  know- 


IRISH  TOPOGRAPHY. 


133 


ledge.  Indeed,  Captain  Larcom’s  application  of 
the  electrotype  to  the  multiplication  of  the  cop- 
per-plates enables  him  to  represent  on  a map  any 
single  attribute  of  the  country  separately,  with 
little  trouble  or  expense.  The  materials  for 
single  and  double  sheet  maps  of  the  Useful  Know- 
ledge Society,  price  6d.  and  Is.,  were  supplied 
from  the  Survey-office.  The  Railway  Commis- 
sioners’ general  map  was  also  made  at  Mountjoy.* 
This  is  the  only  large-sized  map  of  Ireland, 
•shaded  according  to  the  slopes  of  the  land,  pos- 
sessed of  any  accuracy.  We  can  testify  to  this 
accuracy.  It  is  published  in  six  sheets  for  £1 
uncoloured.  It  is  also  issued  at  a higher  price 
coloured  geologically.  For  those  who  have  more 
time  and  energy  than  money  to  spare,  we  know 
no  better  in-door  way  of  studying  Irish  geology 
than  to  buy  this  map  uncoloured,  and  to  put  in 
the  geological  colouring  from  another  copy. 

The  reader  is,  probably,  wearied  enough  of 
this  catalogue,  and  yet  if  he  be  a young  student 
of  his  country’s  state  or  history,  this  catalogue 
will  be  most  useful  to  him.  If  he  be  master,  not 
apprentice,  he  will  see  how  rude  and  imperfect 
this  list  is.  We  must  ask  him  to  forgive  these 
crudities,  and  send  us  (as  he  well  can)  something 
better,  and  we  shall  be  glad  to  use  it  for  our- 
selves and  the  public.  For  a list  of  maps  of  Ire- 
land, and  parts  of  it  chiefly  in  MSS.,  in  Trinity 
College,  Dublin,  we  must  refer  the  reader  to  Mr. 
Hardiman’s  valuable  paper  in  the  14th  volume 
of  the  Transactions  of  the  Royal  Irish  Academy, 

4 The  late  Mountjoy  Barracks,  in  the  Phoenix  Park* 
Dublin. 


134  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ES8AY0. 


THE  VALUATION  OF  IRELAND. 

The  Committee  of  1824  wa9  but  meagerly 
supplied  with  evidence  as  to  foreign  surveys. 
They  begin  that  subject  with  a notice  of  the 
Survey  of  England,  made  by  order  of  William 
the  Conqueror,  and  called  the  Doomsday  Book. 
That  book  took  six  years  to  execute,  and  is  most 
admirably  analysed  by  Thierry. 

The  following  is  their  summary  account  of 
some  modern  surveys  : — 

“In  France,  the  great  territorial  survey  or  cadastre, 
has  been  in  progress  for  many  years.  It  was  first  sug- 
gested in  1763,  and  after  an  interval  of  thirty  years, 
during  which  no  progress  was  made,  it  was  renewed  by 
the  government  of  that  day,  and  individuals  of  the 
highest  scientific  reputation,  M.  M.  Lagrange,  Laplace, 
and  Delambre,  were  consulted,  with  respect  to  the  best 
mode  of  carrying  into  effect  the  intention  of  govern- 
ment. Subsequent  events  suspended  any  effectual  ope- 
rations in  the  French  cadastre  till  the  year  1802,  when 

a school  of  topographical  engineering  was  organised 

The  operations  now  in  progress  were  fully  commenced 
in  1808.  The  principle  adopted,  is  the  formation  of  a 
central  commission  acting  in  conjunction  with  the  local 
authorities ; the  classification  of  lands,  according  to  an 
ascertained  value,  is  made  by  three  resident  proprietors 
of  land  in  each  district,  selected  by  the  municipal  coun- 
cil, and  by  the  chief  officer  of  revenue.  ‘ In  the  course 
of  thirteen  years,  one  third  only  of  each  department 
had  been  surveyed,  having  cost  the  state  £120,000  per 
^.nnum.  At  the  rate  at  which  it  is  carried  on,  it  may 
be  computed  as  likely  to  require  for  its  completion,  a 
total  sum  of  £4,680,  000,  or  an  acreable  charge  of  8 1<L 


THE  VALUATION  OF  IRELAND 


135 


The  defay  of  the  work  as  well  as  the  increase  of  expense, 
®eem  to  have  been  the  result  of  the  minuteness  of  the 
Biirvey,  which  extends  to  every  district  field  , a minute- 
ness which,  for  many  reasons,  your  committee  consider 
both  unnecessary  and  inexpedient  to  be  sought  for,  in 
the  proposed  Survey  of  Ireland. 

* * The  survey  of  Bavaria  is  of  modern  date,  but  of 
*gqual  minuteness.  It  is  commenced  by  a primary  trian- 
gulation, and  principal  and  verification  bases ; it  is  car- 
ried on  to  a second  triangulation,  with  very  accurate 
instruments,  so  as  to  determine  ‘all  the  principal  points; 
the  filling  up  the  interior  is  completed  by  a peculiar 
species  of  plane  table  ; and  in  order  to  do  away  with  the 
inaccuracies  of  the  common  chain,  the  triangulation  is 
carried  down  on  paper  to  the  most  minute  corners  of 
fields.’  The  map  is  laid  down  on  a scale  of  12  inches  to 
the  mile , or  one -five -thousandth  part  of  the  real  size  : and 
as  it  contains  all  that  is  required  in  the  most  precise  sur- 
vey of  property,  it  is  used  in  the  purchase  and  sale  of  real 
estates. 

“ The  cadastre  of  Savoy  and  Piedmont  began  in  1729, 
and  is  stated  to  have  at  once  afforded  the  government 
the  means  of  apportioning  justly  all  the  territorial  con- 
tributions, and  to  have  put  an  end  to  litigations  between 
individuals,  by  ascertaining,  satisfactorily,  the  bounds  of 
properties. 

“ The  Neapolitan  survey  under  Visconti,  and  that  of 
the  United  States  under  Heslar,  are  both  stated  to  be  in 
progress  ; but  your  committee  have  not  had  the  means 
of  ascertaining  on  what  principles  they  are  conducted.” 

The  Committee  adopted  a scale  for  the  maps 
of  six  inches  to  a statute  mile,  believing,  appa- 
rently with  justice,  that  a six-inch  scale  map,  if 
perfectly  well  executed,  would  be  minute  enough 
for  buyers  and  sellers  of  land,  especially  as  the 
larger  holdings  are  generally  townlands,  the 
bounds  of  which  they  meant  to  include.  And, 
wherever  a greater  scale  was  needed,  the  penta- 
graph  afforded  a sufficiently  accurate  plan  of 


136  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

forming  maps  to  it.  They,  in  another  point, 
proposed  to  differ  from  the  Bavarian  Survey,  in 
omitting  field  boundaries,  as  requiring  too  much 
time  and  expense  ; but  they  stated  that  barony,  pa« 
rish,  and  townland  boundaries  were  essential  to  the 
utility  of  the  maps.  They  also  seemed  to  think 
that  for  private  purposes  their  utility  would 
much  depend  on  their  being  accompanied,  as  the 
Bavarian  maps  were,  by  a memoir  of  the  number 
of  families,  houses,  size,  and  description  of 
farms,  and  a valuation.  And  for  this  purpose 
they  printed  all  the  forms.  The  valuation  still 
goes  on  of  the  townlands,  and  classes  of  soil  in 
each.  The  Statistical  Memoir  has,  unfortu- 
nately, been  stopped,  and  no  survey  or  valuation 
of  farms,  or  holdings  as  such,  has  been  attempt- 
ed. We  would  now  only  recall  attention  to  the 
design  of  the  Committee  of  1824  on  the  subject. 

They  proposed  to  leave  the  whole  Survey  to 
the  Board  of  Ordnance,  and  the  Valuation  to 
Civil  Engineers. 

The  Valuation  has  been  regulated  by  a series 
of  acts  of  Parliament,  and  we  shall  speak  of  it 
presently. 

The  Survey  commenced  in  1826,  and  has 
gone  on  under  the  superintendence  of  Colonel 
Colby,  and  the  local  control  of  Captain  Larcom. 

The  following  has  been  its  progress: — First, 
a base  line  of  about  five  miles  was  measured  on 
the  flat  shore  of  Lough  Foyle,  and  from  thence 
triangular  measurements  were  made  by  the  theo- 
dolite and  over  the  whole  country,  and  all  th* 
chief  points  of  mountain,  coast,  &c.,  ascertained 
How  accurately  this  was  done  has  been  proved 


THE  VALUATION  OF  IRELAND.  137 

by  an  astronomical  measurement  of  the  distance 
from  Dublin  to  Armagh  (about  seventy  miles), 
which  only  differed  four  feet  from  the  distance 
calculated  by  the  Ordnance  triangles. 

Having  completed  these  large  triangles,  a de- 
tailed survey  of  the  baronies,  parishes,  and  town- 
lands  of  each  county  followed.  The  field  books 
were  sent  to  the  central  station  at  Mountjoy,  and 
sketched,  engraved  on  copper,  and  printed  there. 
The  first  county  published  was  Derry,  in  1833, 
and  now  the  townland  survey  is  finished,  and  all 
the  counties  have  been  engraved  and  issued  ex- 
cept Limerick,  Kerry,  and  Cork. 

The  Survey  has  also  engraved  a map  of  Dub- 
lin City  on  the  enormous  scale  of  five  feet  to  a 
statute  mile.  This  map  represents  the  shape  and 
space  occupied  by  every  house,  garden,  yard, 
and  pump  in  Dublin.  It  contains  antiquarian 
lettering.  Every  house,  too,  is  numbered  on  the 
map.  One  of  its  sheets,  representing  the  space 
from  Trinity  College  to  the  Castle,  is  on  sale, 
as  we  trust  the  rest  of  it  will  be. 

Two  other  sets  of  maps  remain  to  be  executed. 
First — Maps  of  the  towns  of  Ireland,  on  a scale 
of  five  feet  to  the  mile.  Whatever  may  be  said 
in  reply  to  Sir  Denham  Norreys’  demand  for  r 
survey  of  holdings  in  rural  districts  does  not  ap- 
ply to  the  case  of  towns,  and  we  therefore  trust 
that  the  holdings  will  be  marked  and  separately 
valued  in  towns. 

The  other  work  is  a general  shaded  map  of 
Ireland,  on  a scale  of  one  inch  to  the  statute 
mile.  At  present,  as  we  elsewhere  remarked, 
the  only  tolerable  shaded  map  of  Ireland  is  that 


138  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

of  the  Railway  Commission,  which  is  on  a scale 
of  one  inch  to  four  statute  miles.  Captain  Lar- 
com  proposes,  and  the  Commission  on  the  Ord- 
nance Memoir  recommend,  that  contour  lines 
should  be  the  skeleton  of  the  shading.  If  this 
plan  be  adopted  the  publication  cannot  be  for 
some  years  ; but  the  shading  will  have  the  accu- 
racy of  machine  work  instead  of  mere  hand  skill. 
Contours  are  lines  representing  series  of  levels 
through  a country,  and  are  inestimable  for  drain- 
ing, road  making,  and  military  movements.  But 
though  easily  explained  to  the  eye,  we  doubt  our 
ability  to  teach  their  meaning  by  words  only. 

To  return  to  the  townland  or  six-inch  survey. 
The  names  were  corrected  by  Messrs.  Petrie, 
O’Donovan,  and  Curry,  from  every  source  acces- 
sible in  Ireland . Its  maps  contain  the  county, 
barony,  parish,  townland,  and  glebe  boundaries, 
names  and  acreage  ; names  and  representations  of 
all  cities,  towns,  demesnes,  farms,  ruins,  collie- 
ries, forges,  limekilns,  tanneries,  bleachgreens, 
wells,  &c.,  &c. ; also  of  all  roads,  rivers,  canals, 
bridges,  locks,  weirs,  bogs,  ruins,  churches, 
chapels ; they  have  also  the  number  of  feet  (/ 
every  little  swell  of  land,  and  a mark  for  every 
cabin. 

Of  course  these  maps  run  to  an  immense  num- 
ber. Thus  for  the  county  of  Galway  there  are 
137  double  folio  sheets,  and  for  the  small  county 
of  Dublin  28.  Where  less  than  half  the  sheet  i& 
covered  with  engraving  (as  occurs  towards  the 
edges  of  a county)  the  sheet  is  sold  uncoloured 
for  2s.  6d. ; where  more  than  half  is  covered  the 
price  is  5s. 


THE  VALUATION  OF  IRELAND.  139 

In  order  to  enable  you  to  find  any  sheet  so  as 
to  know  the  bearings  of  its  ground  on  any  other, 
there  is  printed  for  each  county  an  index  map, 
representing  the  whole  county  on  one  sheet* 
This  sheet  is  on  a small  scale  (from  one  to  three 
miles  to  an  inch),  but  contains  in  smaller  type 
the  baronies  and  parishes,  roads,  rivers,  de- 
mesnes, and  most  of  the  information  of  general 
interest.  This  index  map  is  divided  by  lines 
into  as  many  oblong  spaces  as  there  are  maps  of 
the  six-inch  scale ; and  the  spaces  are  numbered 
to  correspond  with  the  six-inch  map.  On  the 
sides  of  the  index  maps  are  tables  of  the  acreage 
of  the  baronies  and  parishes  ; and  examples  of 
the  sort  of  marks  and  type  used  for  each  class  of 
subjects  in  the  six-inch  maps.  Uncoloured,  the 
index  map,  representing  a whole  county,  is  sold 
for  62s.  6d . 

Whenever  those  maps  are  re-engraved,  the 
Irish  words  will,  we  trust,  be  spelled  in  an  Irish 
and  civilised  orthography,  and  not  barbarously, 
as  at  present. 

It  was  proposed  to  print  for  each  county  one 
or  more  volumes,  containing  the  history  of  the 
district  and  its  antiquities,  the  numbers,  and 
past  and  present  state  and  occupations  of  the 
people,  the  state  of  its  agriculture,  manufactures, 
mines,  and  fisheries,  and  what  means  of  extend- 
ing there  existed  in  the  county,  and  its  natural 
history,  including  geology,  zoology,  &c.  All 
this  was  done  for  the  town  of  Derry,  much  to 
the  service  and  satisfaction  of  its  people.  All 
this  ought  to  be  as  fully  done  for  Armagh,  Dub* 
Jin,  Cork,  and  every  other  part  of  Ireland. 


140  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

The  commissioners  recommend  that  the 
geology  of  Ireland  (and  we  would  add  natural 
history  generally)  should  be  investigated  and 
published,  not  by  the  topographical  surveyors 
nor  in  counties,  but  by  a special  board,  and  for 
the  whole  of  Ireland ; and  they  are  right,  for 
our  plants,  rocks,  and  animals  are  not  within 
civil  or  even  obvious  topographical  boundaries, 
and  we  have  plenty  of  Irishmen  qualified  to 
execute  it.  They  also  advise  that  the  statistics 
should  be  entrusted  to  a statistical  staff,  to  be 
permanently  kept  up  in  Ireland.  This  staff 
would  take  the  census  every  ten  years,  and  would 
in  the  intervals  between  the  beginning  and  end- 
ing of  each  census  have  plenty  of  statistical  bu- 
siness to  do  for  parliament  (Irish  or  Imperial) 
and  for  public  departments.  If  we  are  ever  to 
have  a registry  of  births,  deaths  (with  the  cir- 
cumstances of  each  case),  and  marriages,  some 
such  staff  will  be  essential  to  inspect  the  registry, 
and  work  up  information  from  it.  But  the  his- 
tory, antiquities,  and  industrial  resources,  the 
commissioners  recommend  to  have  published  in 
county  volumes.  They  are  too  solicitous  about 
keeping  such  volumes  to  small  dimensions ; but 
the  rest  of  their  plans  are  admirable. 

The  value  of  this  to  Ireland,  whether  she  be 
a nation  or  a province,  cannot  be  overrated. 
From  the  farmer  and  mechanic  to  the  philoso- 
pher, general,  and  statesman,  the  benefit  will 
extend,  and  yet  so  careless  or  so  hostile  are  mi- 
nisters that  they  have  not  conceded  it,  and  so 
feeble  by  dulness  or  disunion  are  Irishmen  and 
Irish  members,  that  they  cannot  extort  even 
this. 


THE  VALUATION  OF  IRELAND. 


14! 


We  now  come  to  the  last  branch  of  the  sul> 
\ect — 

THE  VALUATION. 

The  Committee  of  1824  recommended  only 
principles  of  Valuation.  They  were  three,  viz. 

“ § 1.  A fixed  and  uniform  principle  of  valuation  ap- 
plicable throughout  the  whole  work,  and  enabling  the 
valuation  not  only  of  townlands  hut  that  of  counties,  to 
be  compared  by  one  common  measure.  § 2.  A central 
authority,  under  the  appointment  of  government,  for 
direction  and  superintendence,  and  for  the  generalisa- 
tion of  the  returns  made  in  detail.  § 3.  Local  assistance, 
regularly  organised,  furnishing  information  on  the  spot, 
and  forming  a check  for  the  protection  of  private 
rights.” 

Accordingly  on  the  5th  of  July,  1825,  an  act 
was  passed  requiring,  in  the  first  instance,  the 
entry  in  all  the  grand  jury  records  of  the  names 
and  contents  of  all  parishes,  manors,  townlands, 
and  other  divisions,  and  the  proportionate  assess- 
ments. It  then  went  on  to  authorise  the  Lord 
Lieutenant  to  appoint  surveyors  to  be  paid  out 
of  the  Consolidated  Fund.  These  surveyors 
were  empowered  to  require  the*  attendance  of 
cess  collectors  and  other  inhabitants,  and  with 
their  help  to  examine,  and  ascertain,  and  mark 
the  “ reputed  boundaries  of  all  and  every  or  any 
barony,  half  barony,  townland,  parish,  or  other 
division  or  denomination  of  land,”  howsoever 
called.  The  act  also  inflicted  penalties  on  per- 
sons removing  or  injuring  any  post,  stone,  or 
other  mark  made  by  the  surveyors  ; but  we  be- 
lieve there  has  been  no  occasion  to  enforce  these 
clashes,  the  good  sense  and  good  feeling  of  tha 


142  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

people  being  ample  securities  against  such  wanton 
crime.  Such  survey  was  not  to  affect  the  rights 
of  owners,  yet  from  it  lay  an  appeal  to  the  Quar- 
ter Sessions. 

This,  as  we  see,  relates  to  civil  boundaries , 
not  valuations . 

In  May,  1S20,  another  act  was  passed  direct- 
ing the  Ordnance  officers  to  send  copies  of  their 
maps,  as  fast  as  finished,  to  the  Lord  Lieutenant, 
who  was  to  appoint  “ one  Commissioner  of  Valu- 
ation for  any  counties  and  to  give  notice  of 
such  appointment  to  the  grand  jury  of  every 
such  county.  Each  grand  jury  was  then  to  ap- 
point an  Appeal  Committee  for  each  barony,  and 
a Committee  of  Revision  for  the  whole  county. 
This  Commission  of  Valuation  was  then  to  ap- 
point from  three  to  nine  fit  valuators  in  the  county, 
who,  after  trial  by  the  Commissioner,  were  to 
go  in  parties  of  three  and  examine  all  parts  of 
their  district,  and  value  such  portion  of  it,  and 
set  down  such  valuation  in  a parish  field  book, 
according  to  the  following  average  prices  : — 

“ SCALE  OF  PRICES. 

“Wheat,  at  the  general  average  price  of  10s.  per 
cwt.,  of  1121bs. 

“ Oats,  at  the  general  average  price  of  6s.  per  cwt., 
of  1121bs. 

“ Barley,  at  the  general  average  price  of  7s.  per  cwt., 
of  1121bs. 

“Potatoes,  at  the  general  average  price  of  Is.  7 d.  per 
cwt.,  of  1121bs. 

“Butter,  at  the  general  average  price  of  69s.  pel 
cwt.,  of  1121bs. 

“Beef,  at  the  general  average  price  of  33s.  per  cwt., 
Of  1 121bs. 


THE  VALUATION  OF  IRELAND.  143 


64  Mutton,  at  the  general  average  price  of  34s.  6d 
per  cwt.,  of  1121bs. 

“ Pork,  at  the  general  average  price  of  25s.  6d.  pei 
cwt.,  of  1121bs. 

“That  is,  having  examined  each  tract — say  a hill,  a 
valley,  an  inch,  a reclaimed  bit,  and  by  digging  and 
looking  at  the  soil,  they  were  to  consider  what  crop  it 
could  best  produce,  considering  its  soil,  elevation,  near- 
ness to  markets,  and  then  estimating  crops  at  the  fore- 
going rate,  they  were  to  say  how  much  per  acre  the  tract 
was,  in  their  opinion,  worth. 

“From  this  Parish  Field  Book  the  Commissioner  was 
to  make  out  a table  of  the  parishes  and  townlands,  &c., 
in  each  barony,  specifying  the  average  and  total  value 
of  houses  in  such  subdivisions,  and  to  forward  it  to  the 
high  constable,  who  was  to  post  copies  thereof.  A vestry 
of  twenty  pound  freeholders  and  twenty  shilling  cess 
payers  was  to  be  called  in  each  parish,  to  consider  the 
table.  If  they  did  not  appeal,  the  table  was  to  stand  con- 
firmed , if  they  did  appeal,  the  grand  jury  committee 
of  appeal,  with  the  valuation  commissioner  as  chairman, 
were  to  decide  upon  the  appeal ; but  if  the  assessor  were 
dissatisfied  the  appeal  was  to  go  to  the  committee  of  re- 
vision. The  same  committee  were  then  to  revise  the 
proportionate  liabilities  of  baronies,  subject  to  an  appeal 
to  the  Queen’s  Bench.  The  valuation  so  settled  was  to 
De  published  in  the  Dublin  Gazette , and  thenceforward 
all  grand  jury  and  parish  rates  and  cesses  were  to  be 
levied  in  the  proportions  thereby  fixed.  But  no  land 
theretofore  exempt  from  any  rate  was  thereby  made  liable. 
The  expenses  were  to  be  advanced  from  the  consolidated 
fund,  and  repaid  by  presentment  from  the  county.” 

It  made  the  proportionate  values  of  parishes 
and  townlands,  pending  the  baronial  survey,  and 
She  baronial  valuation,  to  bind  after  revision  and 
publication  in  some  newspaper  circulating  in  the 
county  ; but  within  three  years  there  was  to  be 
a second  revision,  after  which  they  were  to  be 
published  in  the  Dublin  Gazette , &c.,  and  b* 


144  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  FSSAY8. 

final  as  to  the  proportions  of  ail  parish  or  grand 
jury  rates  to  be  paid  by  all  baronies,  parishes, 
and  townlands.  It  also  directed  the  annexation 
of  detached  bits  to  the  counties  respectively  sur 
rounding  them,  and  it  likewise  provided  for  the 
use  of  the  valuation  maps  and  field  books  in 
applotting  the  grand  jury  cess  charged  on  the 
holders  of  lands,  but  such  valuation  to  be  merely 
a guide  and  not  final.  From  the  varying  size 
and  value  of  holdings  this  caution  was  essential. 

Under  this  last  act  the  valuation  has  been  con- 
tinued, as  every  reader  of  the  country  papers 
must  have  seen  by  Mr.  Griffith’s  Notices,  and  is 
now  complete  in  twenty  counties,  forward  in  six, 
begun  in  four,  and  not  yet  begun  in  Cork,  Kerry, 
Limerick,  or  Dublin. 

Mr.  Griffith’s  instructions  are  clear  and  full, 
and  we  strongly  recommend  the  study  of  them, 
and  an  adherence  to  their  forms  and  classifica- 
tions, to  valuators  of  all  private  and  public  pro- 
perties, so  far  as  they  go.  He  appointed  two 
classes  of  valuators — Ordinary  Valuators  to  make 
the  first  valuation  all  over  each  county,  and 
Check  Valuators  to  re-value  patches  in  every 
district,  to  test  the  accuracy  of  the  ordinary  va- 
luators. 

The  ordinary  valuator  was  to  have  two  copies 
of  the  Townland  (or  6-inch)  Survey.  Taking  a 
sheet  with  him  into  the  district  represented  on 
it,  he  was  to  examine  the  quality  of  the  soil  in 
lots  of  from  fifty  to  thirty  acres,  or  still  smaller 
bits,  to  mark  the  bounds  of  each  lot  on  the  sur- 
vey map,  and  to  enter  in  his  field  book  the  value 
thereof,  with  all  the  special  circumstances  spe« 


THE  VALUATION  OF  IRELAND. 


145 


dally  stated.  The  examination  was  to  include 
digging  to  ascertain  the  depth  of  the  soil  and  the 
nature  of  the  subsoil.  All  land  was  to  be  valued 
at  its  agricultural  worth,  supposing  it  liberally 
set,  leaving  out  the  value  of  timber,  turf,  &e. 
Reductions  were  to  be  made  for  elevation  above 
the  sea,  steepness,  exposure  to  bad  winds,  patch- 
iness of  soil,  bad  fences,  and  bad  roads.  Addi- 
tions were  to  be  made  for  neighbourhood  of 
limestone,  turf,  sea,  or  other  manure,  roads,  good 
climate  and  shelter,  nearness  to  towns. 

The  following  classification  of  soils  was  recom- 
mended : — 

ARRANGEMENT  OF  SOILS. 

44  All  soils  may  be  arranged  under  four  heads,  each 
representing  the  characteristic  ingredients,  as  1 . Argil- 
laceous, or  clayey;  2.  Silicious,  or  sandy;  3.  Calcareous, 
or  limy  ; 4.  Peaty. 

“ For  practical  purposes  it  will  be  desirable  to  subdi- 
vide each  of  these  classes : — 

“Thus  argillaceous  soils  maybe  divided  into  three 
varieties,  viz. : — Clay,  clay  loam,  and  argillaceous  allu- 
vial. 

“ Of  silicious  soils  there  are  four  varieties,  viz. . 
Sandy,  gravelly,  slaty,  and  rocky. 

“ Of  calcareous  soils  we  have  three  varieties,  viz. . 
Limestone,  limestone  gravel,  and  marl. 

“ Of  peat  soils  two  varieties,  viz.  : — Moor,  and  peat, 
or  bog. 

‘ ‘ In  describing  in  the  field  book  the  different  qualities 
of  soils,  the  following  explanatory  words  may  be  used 
as  occasion  may  require : — 

“ Stiff— -Where  a soil  contains  a large  proportion,  say 
one-half,  or  even  more,  of  tenacious  clay,  it  is  called 
stiff.  In  dry  weather  this  kind  of  soil  cracks,  and  opens, 
and  has  a tendency  to  form  into  large  and  hard  lumps, 
particularly  if  ploughed  in  wet  weather. 


46  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS* 

“ Friable — Where  the  soil  is  loose  and  open,  as  is  g& 
nerallv  the  case  in  sandy,  gravelly,  and  moory  lands. 

“ Strong — Where  a soil  contains  a considerable  por- 
tion of  clay,  and  has  some  tendency  to  form  into  ciods 
or  lumps,  it  may  be  called  strong. 

“ Deep — Where  the  soil  exceeds  ten  inches  in  depth, 
the  term  deep  may  be  applied. 

“ Shallow — Where  the  depth  of  the  soil  is  less  than 
eight  inches. 

“ Dry — Where  the  soil  is  friable,  and  the  subsoil 
porous,  (if  there  be  no  springs,)  the  term  dry  should  be 
used. 

“ Wet — Where  the  soil,  or  subsoil,  is  very  tenacious, 
or  where  springs  are  numerous. 

“ Sharp — Where  there  is  a moderate  proportion  of 
gravel,  or  small  stones. 

“ Fine  or  Soft — Where  the  soil  contains  no  gravel, 
but  is  chiefly  composed  of  very  fine  sand,  or  soft,  light 
earth  without  gravel. 

“ Cold — Where  the  soil  rests  on  a tenacious  clay  sub- 
soil, and  has  a tendency  when  in  pasture,  to  produce 
rushes  and  other  aquatic  plants. 

“ Sandy,  or  gravelly — Where  there  is  a large  propor- 
tion of  sand  or  gravel,  through  the  soil. 

“ Slaty — Where  the  slaty  substratum  is  much  inter- 
mixed with  the  soil. 

“ Worn — Where  the  soil*  has  been  a long  time  under 
cultivation,  without  rest  or  manure. 

“ Poor — Where  the  land  is  naturally  of  bad  quality. 

“ PI  angry — Where  the  soil  contains  a considerable 
portion  of  gravel,  or  coarse  sand,  resting  on  a gravelly 
subsoil ; on  such  land  manure  does  not  produce  the 
usual  effect. 

“The  colours  of  soils  may  also  be  introduced,  as 
brown,  yellow,  blue,  grey,  red,  black,  &c. 

“Also,  where  applicable,  the  words  steep,  level, 
shrubby,  rocky,  exposed,  &c.,  maybe  used.” 

Lists  of  market  prices  were  sent  with  the  field 
books,  and  the  amounts  then  reduced  to  a uni- 
form rate,  which  Mr.  Griffith  fixed  at  2 s.  6d.  per 


COMMERCIAL  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND.  147 

pound  over  the  prices  of  produce  mentioned  in 
the  act. 

Rules  were  also  given  for  valuation  of  houses, 
but  we  must  refer  to  Mr.  Griffith’s  work  for  them. 


COMMERCIAL  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND. 

W hile  the  Irish  were  excluded  from  English 
law  and  intercourse,  England  imposed  no  restric- 
tions on  our  trade.  The  Pale  spent  its  time 
tilling  and  fighting,  and  it  was  more  sure  of  its 
bellyful  of  blows  than  of  bread.  It  had  nothing 
to  sell,  why  tax  its  trade?  The  slight  commerce 
of  Dublin  was  needful  to  the  comforts  of  the 
.Norman  Court  in  Dublin  Castle.  Why  should 
it  be  taxed  ? The  market  of  Kilkenny  wai 
guarded  by  the  spears  of  the  Butlers,  and  from 
Sligo  to  Cork  the  chiefs  and  towns  of  Munster 
and  Connaught — the  Burkes,  O’Loghlens,  O’Sul- 
livans, Galway,  Dingle,  and  Dunbay,  carried  on 
a trade  with  Spain,  and  piracy  or  war  against 
England.  How  could  they  be  taxed  ? 

Commercial  taxes,  too,  in  those  days  were  hard 
to  be  enforced,  and  more  resembled  toll  to  a rob- 
ber than  contribution  to  the  state.  Every  great 
river  and  pass  in  Europe,  from  the  Rhine  and  the 
Alps  to  Berwick  and  the  Blackwater,  was  affec- 
tionately watched  by  royal  and  noble  castles  at 
their  narrowest  points,  and  the  barge  anchored 
and  the  caravan  halted  to  be  robbed,  or,  as  the 
receivers  called  it,  to  be  taxed. 


148  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

At  last  the  Pale  was  stretched  round  Ireland 
by  art  and  force.  Solitude  and  peace  were  in 
our  plains  ; but  the  armed  colonist  settled  in  it, 
and  the  native  came  down  from  his  hills  as  a 
tenant  or  a squatter,  and  a kind  of  prosperity 
arose. 

Protestant  and  Catholic,  native  and  colonist, 
had  the  same  interest — namely,  to  turn  this  waste 
into  a garden.  They  had  not,  nor  could  they 
have  had,  other  things  to  export  than  Sydney 
or  Canada  have  now — cattle,  butter,  hides,  and 
wool.  They  had  hardly  corn  enough  for  them* 
selves  ; but  pasture  was  plenty,  and  cows  anf| 
their  hides,  sheep  and  their  fleeces,  were  equally 
eo.  The  natives  had  always  been  obliged  to 
prepare  their  own  clothing,  and,  therefore,  every 
creaght  and  digger  knew  how  to  dress  wool  and 
skins,  and  they  had  found  out,  or  preserved,  from 
a more  civilized  time,  dyes  which,  to  this  day, 
are  superior  to  any  others.  Small  quantities  of 
roollen  goods  were  exported,  but  our  assertion 
holds  good  that  in  our  war-times  there  was  no 
manufacture  for  export  worth  naming. 

Black  Tom  Wentworth,  the  ablest  of  despots, 
came  here  210  years  ago,  and  found  “small  be- 
ginnings towards  a clothing  trade.”  He  at  once 
resolved  to  discourage  it.  He  wrote  so  to  the 
king  on  July  25th,  1636,  and  he  was  a man  true 
to  his  enmities.  “ But,”  said  he,  “I’ll  give  their 
a linen  manufacture  instead.”  Now,  the  Irish 
had  raised  flax  and  made  and  dyed  linen  from 
time  immemorial.  The  saffron-coloured  linen 
shirt  was  as  national  as  the  cloak  and  birred ; so 
that  Strafford  rather  introduced  the  linen 


COMMERCIAL  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND.  149 

facture  among  the  new  settlers  than  among  the 
Irish.  Certainly  he  encouraged  it,  by  sending 
Irishmen  to  learn  in  Brabant,  and  by  bringing 
French  and  Flemings  to  work  in  Ireland. 

Charles  the  Second,  doubtless  to  punish  us  for 
our  most  unwise  loyalty  to  him  and  his  father, 
assented  to  a series  of  acts  prohibiting  the  export 
of  Irish  wool,  cattle,  &c.,  to  England  or  her  co- 
lonies, and  prohibiting  the  direct  importation  of 
several  colonial  products  into  Ireland.  The  chiel 
acts  are  12  Charles,  c.  4 ; 15  Charles,  c.  7 ; and 
22  and  23  Charles,  c.  26.  Thus  were  the  value 
of  land  in  Ireland,  the  revenue,  and  trade,  and 
manufactures  of  Ireland — Protestant  and  Catho- 
lic— stricken  by  England. 

Perhaps  we  ought  to  be  grateful,  though  not 
to  England  for  these  acts.  They  plundered  our 
pockets,  but  they  guarded  our  souls  from  being 
Anglicised.  To  France  and  Spain  the  produce 
was  sent,  and  the  woollen  manufacture  continued 
\o  increase. 

England  got  alarmed,  for  Ireland  was  getting 
rich.  The  English  lords  addressed  King  William, 
stating  that  “ the  growth  and  increase  of  the 
woollen  manufacture  in  Ireland  had  long  been, 
and  would  be  ever , looked  upon  with  great 
jealousy  by  his  English  subjects,  and  praying 
him,  by  very  strict  laws,  totally  to  prohibit  and 
suppress  the  same.”  The  Commons  said  like- 
wise ; and  William  answered  comfortably — “ I 
ihall  do  all  that  in  me  lies  to  discourage  the 
woollen  manufacture  in  Ireland,  and  to  encou» 
rage  the  linen  manufacture  there,  and  to  promote 
the  trc.de  of  England.” 


150  LITERARI  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  even  whipped 
and  humbugged  the  unfortunate  Irish  Parliament 
to  pass  an  act,  putting  twenty  per  cent,  duty  on 
broad,  and  ten  per  cent,  on  narrow  cloths  : — 

“ But  it  did  not  satisfy  the  English  parliament,  where 
a perpetual  law  was  made,  prohibiting  from  the  20th  of 
June,  1699,  the  exportation  from  Ireland  of  all  goods 
made  or  mixed  with  wool,  except  to  England  and  Wales, 
and  with  the  license  of  the  commissioners  of  the  reve- 
nue ; duties  had  been  before  laid  on  the  importation  into 
England  equal  to  a prohibition,  therefore,  this  act  ha3 
operated  as  a total  prohibition  of  the  exportation.” 

There  was  nothing  left  but  to  send  the  wool 
raw  to  England  ; to  smuggle  it  and  cloths  to 
France  and  Spain,  or  to  leave  the  land  unstocked. 
The  first  was  worst.  The  export  to  England  de- 
clined, smuggling  prospered,  “ wild  geese”  for 
die  Brigade,  and  woollen  goods,  were  run  in  ex- 
change for  claret,  brandy,  and  silks ; but  not 
much  land  was  left  waste.  Our  silks,  cottons, 
malt,  beer,  and  almost  every  other  article  was 
similarly  prohibited.  Striped  linens  were  taxed 
thirty  per  cent.,  many  other  kinds  of  linen  were 
also  interfered  with,  and  twenty-four  embargoes 
in  nineteen  years  straitened  our  foreign  provi- 
sion trade.  Thus  England  kept  her  pledge  of 
wrath,  and  broke  her  promise  of  service  to  Ire- 
land. 

A vigorous  system  of  smuggling  induced  hev 
*o  relax  in  some  points,  and  the  cannon  of  the 
Volunteers  blew  away  the  code. 

By  the  Union  she  was  so  drained  of  money, 
and  absentee  rents  and  taxes,  and  of  spirit  in 
every  way,  that  she  no  longer  needs  a prohibi- 


COMMElt^lAL  HISTORY  OF  IRELAM).  151 

tory  code  to  prevent  our  competing  with  her  in 
any  market,  Irish  or  foreign.  The  Union  is 
prohibition  enough,  and  that  England  says  she 
will  maintain. 

Whether  it  be  now  possible  to  create  home 
manufactures,  in  the  old  sense  of  the  word— 
that  is,  manufactures  made  in  the  homes  of  the 
workers,  is  doubted. 

In  favour  of  such  a thing,  if  it  be  possible,  the 
arguments  are  numberless.  Such  work  is  a source 
of  ingenuity  and  enjoyment  in  the  cabin  of  the 
peasant;  it  rather  fills  up  time  that  would  be 
otherwise  idled,  than  takes  from  other  work.— 
Our  peasants’  wives  and  daughters  could  clothe 
themselves  and  their  families  by  the  winter  night- 
work,  even  as  those  of  Norway  do,  if  the  pea- 
sants possessed  the  little  estates  that  Norway’s 
peasants  do.  Clothes  manufactured  by  hand- 
work are  more  lasting,  comfortable,  and  hand- 
some, and  are  more  natural  and  national  than 
factory  goods.  Besides,  there  is  the  strongest  of 
all  reasons  in  this,  that  the  factory  system  seems 
everywhere  a poison  to  virtue  and  happiness. 

Some  invention,  which  should  bring  the  might 
of  machinery  in  a wholesome  and  cheap  form  to 
the  cabin,  seems  the  only  solution  of  the  diffi- 
culty. 

The  hazards  of  the  factory  system,  however, 
should  be  encountered,  were  it  sure  to  feed  our 
starving  millions ; but  this  is  dubious. 

A Native  Parliament . can  alone  judge,  or  act 
usefully  on  this  momentous  subject.  An  ab- 
sentee tax  and  a resident  government,  and  the 
progress  of  public  industry  and  education,,  would 


152  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

enable  an  Irish  Parliament  to  create  vast  manu- 
factures here  by  protecting  duties  in  the  first 
instance,  and  to  maintain  them  by  our  general 
prosperity,  or  it  could  rely  on  its  own  adjustment 
of  landed  property  as  sufficient  to  put  the  People 
above  the  need  of  hazarding  purity  or  content 
by  embarking  in  great  manufactures. 

A peasant  proprietary  could  have  wealth 
enough  to  import  wrought  goods,  or  taste  and 
firmness  enough  to  prefer  home-made  manufac- 
tures. 

But  these  are  questions  for  other  years.  We 
wish  the  reader  to  take  our  word  for  nothing,  but 
to  consult  the  writers  on  Irish  trade.  Laurence’s 
“Interestof Ireland,”  (1682;)  Browned  “ Tracts,” 
(1728;)  “ Dobbs  on  Trade,”  (1729  ;)  Hutchin- 
son’s “ Commercial  Restraints,”  (1779  ;)  “ Shef- 
field on  Irish  Trade,”  (1785;)  “Wallace  on 
Irish  Trade,”  (1798  ;)  the  various  “Parliamen- 
tary Reports,”  and  the  very  able  articles  on  the 
same  subject  in  the  “ Citizen.” 

Do  not  be  alarmed  at  the  list,  reader,  a month’s 
study  would  carry  you  through  all  but  the  Re- 
ports, and  it  would  be  well  spent.  But  if  you 
still  shrink,  you  can  ease  your  conscience  by 
reading  Mr.  John  O’Connell’s  Report  on  “ The 
Commercial  Injustices,”  just  issued  by  the  Repeal 
Association.  It  is  an  elaborate,  learned,  fend 
most  useful  tract. 


RATIONAL  AM*. 


153 


NATIONAL  ART. 

I No  one  doubts  that  if  he  sees  a place  or  an  action 
l he  knows  more  of  it  than  if  it  had  been  described 
to  him  by  a witness.  The  dullest  man,  who 
“ put  on  his  best  attire”  to  welcome  Caesar,  had 
a better  notion  of  life  in  Rome  than  our  ablest 
artist  or  antiquary. 

Were  painting,  then,  but  a coloured  chronicle, 
telling  us  facts  by  the  eye  instead  of  the  ear,  it 
would  demand  the  Statesman’s  care  and  the 
People’s  love.  It  would  preserve  for  us  faces 
we  worshipped,  and  the  forms  of  men  who  led 
and  instructed  us.  It  would  remind  us,  and 
teach  our  children,  not  only  how  these  men 
looked,  but,  to  some  extent,  what  they  were,  for 
nature  is  consistent,  and  she  has  indexed  her 
labours.  It  would  carry  down  a pictorial  history 
of  our  houses,  arts,  costume,  and  manners,  to 
other  times,  and  show  the  dweller  in  a remote 
isle  the  appearance  of  countries  and  races  of  his 
cotemporaries. 

As  a register  of  facts — as  a portrayer  of  men, 
singly  or  assembled — and  as  a depicter  of  actual 
scenery,  art  is  biography,  history,  and  topography, 
taught  through  the  eye. 

So  far  as  it  can  express  facts,  it  is  superior  to 
writing;  and  nothing  but  the  scarcity  of  faithful 
artists,  or  the  stupidity  of  the  public,  prevents  us 
from  having  our  pictorial  libraries  of  men  and 


154  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  E88Ar8. 

places.  There  are  some  classes  of  scenes — ai 
where  continuous  action  is  to  be  expressed — in 
which  sculpture  quite  fails,  and  painting  is  but  a 
shadowy  narrator. 

But  this,  after  all,  though  the  most  obvious 
and  easy  use  of  Painting  and  Sculpture,  is  far 
indeed  from  being  their  highest  end. 

Art  is  a regenerator  as  well  as  a copyist.  As 
the  historian,  who  composes  a history  out  of 
various  materials,  differs  from  a newspaper  re- 
porter, who  sets  down  what  he  sees — as  Plutarch 
differs  from  Mr.  Grant,  and  the  Abbe  Barth elmy 
from  the  last  traveller  in  India — so  do  the  His- 
torical Painter,  the  Landscape  Composer  (such 
as  Claude  or  Poussin)  differ  from  the  most  faith- 
ful Portrait,  Landscape,  or  Scene  Drawer. 

The  Painter,  who  is  a master  of  composition, 
makes  his  pencil  cotemporary  with  all  times  and 
ubiquitous.  Keeping  strictly  to  nature  and  fact, 
Romulus  sits  for  him  and  Paul  preaches.  He 
makes  Attila  charge  and  Mohammed  exhort,  and 
Ephesus  blaze  when  he  likes.  He  tries  not  rashly, 
but  by  years  of  study  of  men’s  character,  and 
dress,  and  deeds,  to  make  them  and  their  acts 
come  as  in  a vision  before  him.  Having  thus 
got  a design  he  attempts  to  realise  the  vision  on 
his  canvass.  He  pays  the  most  minute  attention 
to  truth  in  his  drawing,  shading,  and  colouring, 
and  by  imitating  the  force  of  nature  in  his  com- 
position, all  the  clouds  that  ever  floated  by  him, 
“ the  lights  of  other  days,”  and  the  forms  of  the 
dead,  or  the  stranger,  hover  over  him. 

But  Art  in  its  highest  stage  is  more  than  this, 
£t  is  a creator.  Great  as  Herodotus  and  Thierry 


NATIONAL  ART 


155 


are,  Homer  and  Beranger  are  greater.  The 
ideal  has  resources  beyond  the  actual.  It  is  in- 
finite, and  Art  is  indefinitely  powerful.  The 
Apollo  is  more  than  noble,  and  the  Hercules 
mightier  than  man.  The  Moses  of  Michael 
Angelo  is  no  likeness  of  the  inspired  law-giver, 
nor  of  any  other  that  ever  lived,  and  Raphael’s 
Madonnas  are  not  the  faces  of  women.  As  Rey- 
nolds says,  “ the  effect  of  the  capital  works  ol 
Michael  Angelo  is,  that  the  observer  feels  his 
whole  frame  enlarged.”  It  is  creation,  it  is  re- 
presenting beings  and  things  different  from  our 
nature,  but  true  to  their  own.  In  this  self-con- 
sistency is  the  only  nature  requisite  in  works 
purely  imaginative.  Lear  is  true  to  his  nature, 
and  so  are  Mephistopheles,  and  Prometheus,  and 
Achilles  ; but  they  are  not  true  to  human  nature  ; 
they  are  beings  created  by  the  poets’  minds,  and 
true  to  their  laws  of  being.  There  is  no  com- 
moner blunder  in  men,  who  are  themselves  mere 
critics,  never  creators,  than  to  require  consistency 
to  the  nature  of  us  and  our  world  in  the  works  of 
poet  or  painter. 

To  create  a mass  of  great  pictures,  statues, 
and  buildings,  is  of  the  same  sort  of  ennoblement 
to  a people  as  to  create  great  poems  or  histories, 
or  make  great  codes  or  win'  great  battles.  The 
next  best,  though  far  inferior,  blessing  and  power 
are  to  inherit  such  works  and  achievements. 
The  lowest  stage  of  all  is  neither  to  possess  nor 
to  create  them. 

Ireland  has  had  some  great  Painters — Barry 
and  Forde  for  example,  and  many  of  inferior  but 
great  excellence  ; and  now  she  boasts  high  name* 


156  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

— Maclise,  Hogan,  and  Mulready.  But  theif 
works  were  seldom  done  for  Ireland,  and  are 
rarely  known  in  it.  Our  portrait  and  landscape 
Painters  paint  foreign  men  and  scenes : and,  at 
all  events,  the  Irish  people  do  not  see,  posses^ 
nor  receive  knowledge  from  their  works.  Irish 
history  has  supplied  no  subjects  for  our  greatest 
Artists  ; and  though,  as  we  repeat,  Ireland  pos- 
sessed a Forde  and  Barry,  creative  Painters  of 
the  highest  order,  the  pictures  of  the  latter  are 
mostly  abroad ; those  of  the  former  unseen  and 
unknown.  Alas  l that  they  are  so  few. 

To  collect  into,  and  make  known,  and  publish 
in  Ireland,  the  best  works  of  our  living  and  dead 
Artists,  is  one  of  the  steps  towards  procuring  for 
Ireland  a recognised  National  Art.  And  this  is 
essential  to  our  civilization  and  renown.  The 
other  is  by  giving  education  to  students  and 
rewards  to  Artists,  to  make  many  of  this  genera- 
tion true  representers,  some  of  them  great  illus- 
trators and  composers,  and,  perchance,  to  facili- 
tate the  creation  of  some  great  spirit.  • 

Something  has  been  done — more  remains. 

There  are  schools  in  Dublin  and  Cork.  Buf 
why  are  those  so  neglected  and  imperfect  ? and 
why  are  not  similar  or  better  institutions  in  Bel- 
fast, Derry,  Galway,  Waterford,  and  Kilkenny? 
Why  is  there  not  a decent  collection  of  casts 
anywhere  but  in  Cork,  and  why  are  they  in  a 
garret  there?  And  why  have  we  no  gallery  of 
Irishmen’s,  or  any  other  men’s,  pictuies  in  Ire- 
land ? 

The  Art-Union  has  done  a great  deal.  It  has 
helped  to  support  in  Ireland  artists  who  should 


NATIONAL  ART. 


1ST 


otherwise  have  starved  or  emigrated  ; it  has  dis- 
persed one  (when,  oh  when,  will  it  disperse 
another?)  fine  print  of  a fine  Irish  picture 
through  the  country,  and  to  some  extent  inter- 
ested as  well  as  instructed  thousands.  Yet  it 
could,  and  we  believe  will,  do  much  more.  It 
ought  to  have  Corresponding  Committees  in  the 
principal  towns  to  preserve  and  rub  up  old  schools 
of  art  and  foster  new  ones,  and  it  might  by  art 
and  historical  libraries,  and  by  other  ways,  help 
the  cause.  We  speak  as  friends,  and  suggest 
not  as  critics,  for  it  has  done  good  service. 

The  Repeal  Association,  too,  in  offering  prizes 
for  pictures  and  sculptures  of  Irish  historical 
subjects  has  taken  its  proper  place  as  the  patron 
of  nationality  in  art;  and  its  rewards  for  Build- 
ing Designs  may  promote  the  comfort  and  taste 
of  the  people,  and  the  reputation  of  the  country. 
If  artists  will  examine  the  rules  by  which  the 
pictures,  statues,  and  plates  remain  their  pro- 
perty, they  will  find  the  prizes  not  so  small  as 
they  might  at  first  appear.  Nor  should  they, 
from  interest  or  just  pride,  be  indifferent  to  the 
popularity  and  fame  of  success  on  national  sub- 
jects, and  with  a People’s  Prizes  to  be  contended 
for.  If  those  who  are  not  Repealers  will  treat 
the  Association’s  design  kindly  and  candidly, 
and  if  the  Repealers  will  act  in  art  upon  princi- 
ples of  justice  and  conciliation,  we  shall  not  only 
advance  national  art  but  gain  another  field  cf 
common  exertion. 

The  Cork  School  of  Art  owes  its  excellence 
to  many  causes. 

The  intense,  genial,  and  Irish  character  of  tiia 


168  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

people,  the  southern  warmth  and  variety  of  clime, 
with  its  effects  on  animal  and  vegetable  beings, 
are  the  natural  causes. 

The  accident  of  Barry’s  birth  there,  and  his  great 
fame,  excited  the  ambition  of  the  young  artists. 
An  Irishman  and  a Corkman  had  gone  out  from 
them,  and  amazed  men  by  the  grandeur  and  ori- 
ginality of  his  works  of  art.  He  had  thrown  the 
whole  of  the  English  painters  into  insignificance, 
for  who  would  compare  the  luscious  common-place 
of  the  Stuart  painters,  or  the  melo-dramatic 
reality  of  Hogarth,  or  the  imitative  beauty  of 
Reynolds,  or  the  clumsy  strength  of  West,  with 
the  overbearing  grandeur  of  his  works. 

But  the  present  glories  of  Cork,  Maclise  and 
Hogan,  the  greater,  but  buried,  might  of  Forde, 
and  the  rich  promise  which  we  know  is  springing 
there  now,  are  mainly  owing  to  another  cause  ; 
and  that  is,  that  Cork  possesses  a gallery  of  the 
finest  casts  in  the  world. 

These  casts  are  not  very  many — 117  only; 
but  they  are  perfect,  they  are  the  first  from  Ca- 
nova’s  moulds,  and  embrace  the  greatest  works 
of  Greek  art.  They  are  ill  placed  in  a dim  and 
dirty  room — more  shame  to  the  rich  men  of 
Cork  for  leaving  them  so — but  there  they  are.  and 
there  studied  Forde,  and  Maclise,  and  the  rest, 
until  they  learned  to  draw  better  than  any  mo- 
derns, except  Cornelius  and  his  living  brethren. 

In  the  countries  where  art  is  permanent  there 
are  great  collections,  Tuscany  and  Rome  for  ex- 
ample. But,  as  we  have  said  before,  the  highest 
service  done  by  success  in  art  is  not  in  the  pos- 
session but  in  the  creation  of  great  works,  thfl 


NATIONAL  ART. 


15S 


spirit,  labour,  sagacity,  and  instruction,  needed 
by  the  artists  to  succeed,  and  flung  out  by  them 
on  their  country  like  rain  from  sunny  clouds. 

Indeed  there  is  some  danger  of  a traditionary 
mediocrity  following  after  a great  epoch  in  art. 
Superstition  of  style,  technical  rules  in  compo- 
sition, and  all  the  pedantry  of  art,  too  often  fill 
up  the  ranks  vacated  by  veteran  genius,  and  of 
this  there  are  examples  enough  in  Flanders, 
Spain,  and  even  Italy.  The  schools  may,  and 
often  do,  make  men  scholastic  and  ungenial,  and 
art  remains  an  instructor  and  refiner,  but  creates 
no  more. 

Ireland,  fortunately  or  unfortunately,  has  every 
thing  to  do  yet.  We  have  had  great  artists — we  have 
not  their  works — we  own  the  nativity  of  great 
living  artists — they  live  on  the  Tiber  and  the 
Thames.  Our  capital  city  has  no  school  of  art — 
no  facilities  for  acquiring  it. 

To  be  sure  there  are  rooms  open  in  the  Dub- 
lin Society,  and  they  have  not  been  useless,  that 
is  all.  But  a student  here  cannot  learn  anatomy, 
save  at  the  same  expense  as  a surgical  student. 
He  has  no  great  works  of  art  before  him,  no 
Pantheon,  no  Valhalla,  not  even  a good  museum 
or  gallery. 

We  think  it  may  be  laid  down  as  unalterably 
true,  that  a student  should  never  draw  from  a 
flat  surface.  He  learns  nothing  by  drawing  from 
the  lines  of  another  man — he  only  mimics.  Better 
for  him  to  draw  chairs  and  tables,  bottles  and 
glasses,  rubbish,  potatoes,  cabins,  or  kitchen 
utensils,  than  draw  from  the  lines  laid  down  by 
other  men, 


160  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

Of  those  forms  of  nature  which  the  student  can 
originally  consult — the  sea,  the  sky,  the  earth— 
we  would  counsel  him  to  draw  from  them  in  ths 
first  learning ; for  though  he  ought  afterwards 
analyse  and  mature  his  style  by  the  study  of  works 
of  art,  from  the  first  sketches  to  the  finished 
picture,  yet,  by  beginning  with  nature  and  his 
own  suggestions,  lie  will  acquire  a genuine  and 
original  style,  superior  to  the  finest  imitation  ; 
and  it  is  hard  to  acquire  a master’s  skill  without 
his  manner. 

Were  all  men  cast  in  a divine  mould  of 
strength,  and  straightness,  and  gallant  bearing, 
and  all  women  proportioned,  graceful,  and  fair, 
the  artist  would  need  no  gallery,  at  least  to  begin 
his  studies  with.  He  would  have  to  persuade  or 
snatch  his  models  in  daily  life.  Even  then,  as 
art  creates  greater  and  simpler  combinations  than 
ever  exist  in  fact,  he  should  finally  study  before 
the  superhuman  works  of  his  predecessors. 

But  he  has  about  him  here  an  indifferently- 
made,  ordinary.  not  very  clean,  nor  picturesquely- 
clad  people ; though,  doubtless,  if  they  had  the 
feeding,  the  dress,  and  the  education  (for  mind 
beautifies  the  body)  of  the  Greeks,  they  would 
not  be  inferior,  for  the  Irish  structure  is  of  the 
noblest  order. 

To  give  him  a multitude  of  fine  natural  mo- 
dels, to  say  nothing  of  ideal  works,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  make  a gallery  of  statues  or  casts.  The 
statues  will  come  in  good  time,  and  we  hope,  and 
are  sure,  that  Ireland,  a nation,  will  have  a 
national  gallery,  combining  the  greatest  works  of 


NATIONAL  ART. 


161 


Ihe  Celtic  and  Teutonic  races.  But  at  present 
the  most  that  can  be  done  is  to  form  a gallery. 

Our  readers  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  this 
great  boon  is  about  to  be  given  to  Irish  Art.  A 
society  for  the  formation  of  a gallery  of  casts  in 
Dublin  has  been  founded. 

It  embraces  men  of  every  rank,  class,  creed, 
politics,  and  calling,  thus  forming  another  of 
those  sanctuaries,  now  multiplying  in  Ireland, 
where  one  is  safe  from  the  polemic  and  the  par- 
tizan. 

Its  purpose  is  to  purchase  casts  of  all  the 
greatest  works  of  Greece,  Egypt,  Etruria,  an- 
cient Rome,  and  Europe  in  the  middle  ages. 
This  will  embrace  a sufficient  variety  of  types 
both  natural  and  ideal  to  prevent  imitation,  and 
will  avoid  the  debateable  ground  of  modern  art. 
Wherever  they  can  afford  it  the  society  will  buy 
moulds,  in  order  to  assist  provincial  galleries, 
and  therefore  the  provinces  are  immediately  in^ 
terested  in  its  support. 

When  a few  of  these  casts  are  got  together, 
and  a proper  gallery  procured,  the  public  will  be 
admitted  to  see,  and  artists  to  study  them  with- 
out any  charge.  The  annual  subscription  is  but 
\0s.,  the  object  being  to  interest  as  many  as  pos- 
sible in  its  support. 

It  has  been  suggested  to  us  by  an  artist  that 
Trinity  College  ought  to  establish  a gallery  and 
museum  containing  casts  of  all  the  ancient  sta- 
tues, models  of  their  buildings,  civil  and  mili- 
tary, and  a collection  of  their  implements  of  art, 
trade,  and  domestic  life.  A nobler  institution,  Q 
more  vivid  and  productive  commentary  on  the 


162  LITERARY  AND  HISTORCAL  ESSAYS. 


classics  could  not  be.  But  if  the  Board  will  not 
do  this  of  themselves,  vve  trust  they  will  see  the 
propriety  of  assisting  this  public  gallery,  and 
procuring,  therefore,  special  privileges  for  the 
students  in  using  it. 

But  no  matter  what  persons  in  authority  may 
do  or  neglect,  we  trust  the  public — for  the  sake 
of  their  own  pleasure,  their  children’s  profit,  and 
Ireland’s  honour — will  give  it  their  instant  and 
full  support. 


ART  UNIONS. 

Art  Unions  are  a substitute  for  State  patronage. 
The  State  can  do  much  for  art.  It  can  furnish 
teachers  and  models  to  a large  class,  and  it  can 
enable  an  artist  to  live  by  great  works.  Private 
patronage  does  not  encourage  great  works.  They 
require  much  time,  and  occupy  a larger  space 
than  suits  the  size  of  private  dwellings.  Their 
price  is  immense,  not  only  from  the  labour  they 
require,  but  because  of  the  rarity  of  men  able  to 
execute  them.  Wherever  the  arts  have  flou- 
rished, the  State  has  been  their  chief  patron. 
So  it  was  in  Athens  where  art  was  a branch  of 
public  business.  In  Rome,  the  patronage  was 
even  more  liberal,  if  not  quite  so  just.  When 
arts  revived,  they  were  sustained  by  the  monarchs 
and  ecclesiastical  corporations  of  all  Europe. 
But,  amongst  their  earliest,  firmest,  and  wisest 
friends,  were  the  little  republics  of  Italy  and  the 
corporations  of  the  Low  Countries.  Even  now 


ART  UNIONS. 


163 


there  is  more  art  of  a high  order  called  out  by 
the  patronage  of  the  little  court  of  Munich  than 
by  any  people  in  the  world.  When  we  speak  o 1 
high  art,  we  m§an  art  used  to  instruct  and  en- 
noble men  ; to  teach  them  great  deeds  whether 
historical,  religious,  or  romantic;  to  awaken  their 
piety,  their  pride,  their  justice,  and  their  valour ; 
to  paint  the  hero,  the  martyr,  the  rescuer,  the 
lover,  the  patriot,  the  friend,  the  saint,  and  the 
Saviour — nor  is  it  confined  to  expressing  moral 
excellence.  It  expresses  intellectual  and  physical 
might — the  poet,  the  orator,  the  sage,  the  giant 
savage,  the  falling  angel.  Whatever  can  be 
painted  or  sculptured,  of  strength  or  sweetness, 
of  grace  or  terror,  of  piety  or  power — that  belongs 
to  high  art. 

In  prizing  State  patronage  so  high,  we  do  not 
assume  it  sufficient  to  produce  great  artists. 
Public  passions,  strong  thoughts,  condensed  and 
deep  education  must  exist  (along  with  facilities 
to  learn,  and  State  patronage)  to  produce  great 
artists.  The  perfect  success  of  the  little  states 
of  Greece,  Italy,  and  the  Low  Countries  in  art, 
was  owing  less  to  their  patronising  art  than  to 
the  strong  passions,  the  public  spirit,  the  concen- 
tration and  earnestness  of  character  produced  by 
local  government.  Polygamy  is  not  more  un- 
natural and  debasing  than  central  government. 
We  do  not  hope  to  see  art  advance  much  till 
national  character  is  restored  by  the  break  up  of 
two  or  three  of  the  huge  and  hateful  empires. 

Latterly  a substitute  for  state  patronage  has 
been  found,  or  supposed  to  have  been  found,  in 
Art  Unions.  The  clubbed  guineas  of  thousands 
form  a sum  large  enough  to  buy  the  costliest 


164  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

pictures.  We  do  not  think  these  Unions  cun 
realise  all  their  more  sanguine  friends  look  for. 
Some  people  subscribe  to  encourage  art,  most 
people  to  get  pictures  and  prints.  There  is 
therefore  a strong  incJuc«rue.nt  among  the  mana- 
gers of  these  institutions  to  nave  as  many  prizes 
as  possible  to  distribute.  Their  motite  is  excel- 
lent. Their  desire  is  to  serve  artists  and  satisfy 
the  public.  They  are  all  gratuitous  labourers  in 
this  excellent  work.  But  the  effect  is  to  break 
up  the  fund  into  small  sums  and  to  prevent  Art 
Committees  from  buying  great,  and,  therefore, 
costly  pictures,  and  thus  to  discourage  them. 
Perhaps  even  in  this  respect  these  committees 
are  blameless ; a petty  style  existed,  and  has  not 
been  got  rid  of,  and  it  may  be  many  years  before 
they  have  the  opportunity  of  buying  a picture 
great  in  design  and  execution. 

Still  these  institutions  do  and  have  done  a 
great  deal.  They  have  given  the  guineas  of 
tens  of  thousands  to  support  artists  who  might 
otherwise  have  starved  or  painted  portraits. 
They  have  put  hundreds  of  pictures  and  thou- 
sands of  fine  prints  into  houses  where  a catch* 
penny  London  engraving,  or  nothing  at  all* 
would  have  reached.  They  have  created  an  ex* 
citement  about  art.  Men  talk  of  it,  read  of  it, 
think  of  it,  and  recommend  it,  who,  ten  years 
Ago,  would  not  have  heeded  its  existence.  Artists 
>hus  encouraged  and  honored  are  improving,  and 
there  is  every  hope  that  by  the  continuance  of 
luch  support,  and  by  the  increase  of  public  spirit, 
A school  of  eminent  Irish  artists  will  be  created 
to  illustrate  their  country’s  history  and  character, 
find  to  associate  their  fame  with  her’s. 


ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  IRELAND. 


165 


ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  IRELAND. 

The  most  useful  premium  offered  by  the  Art 
Union  is  that  for  outline  illustrations  of  Irish 
books.  More  instruction  in  art,  more  service  to 
nationality,  would  follow  from  the  success  of 
this  project  than  of  any  other  they  have  at- 
tempted. 

The  preliminary  to  any  excellence  in  painting 
is  correct  drawing.  The  boldest  imagination 
cannot  represent  its  thought  without  command 
over  outline.  Had  Raphael’s  Madonna  crooked 
eyes,  or  were  the  limbs  of  Angelo’s  Lazarus  not 
bone  and  sinew  convulsed  with  returning  life, 
but  galvanised  blocks  (as  a pencil  untrained  to 
correct  outline  would  have  drawn  them),  not  all 
the  light,  and  shade,  and  colouring  in  the  world 
could  have  made  these  figures  admirable.  The 
prints  which  glare  in  our  cabins  are  not  more 
abominable  with  brick-dust  blood,  and  ochre- 
skin,  than  the  costlier  trash  of  our  drawing- 
rooms with  upright  figures  that  could  never 
stand,  eyes  that  look  round  corners,  arms  and 
necks  that  seem  the  work  of  a carpenter,  and 
bodies,  compared  to  which,  gate-posts  look 
animated. 

The  glare  and  the  prettiness  reconcile  our 
ignorant  peasants,  and  our  more  ignorant  gentry, 
to  these  deformities  ; but  the  same  drawings  in 
outline  would  not  be  tolerated  even  by  them,  ex- 


166  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


cept  as  caricatures — dull  caricatures.  Accustom 
people  to  outline  drawings — train  their  eyes  to 
judge  and  admire  correct  outlines,  vigour  of 
action,  strength  and  beauty  of  limb,  possibility 
of  attitude,  unity  of  frame  and  of  expression,  and 
they  will  cease  to  value  high  colours  or  smooth 
graving — they  will  insist  on  nature,  and  faith, 
and  power  in  works  of  art — they  will  appreciate 
the  statues  of  Greece,  the  paintings  of  Italy,  and 
Deutschland — they  will  demand  of  their  own 
artists  the  excellence  they  are  accustomed  to, 
and  they  will  recognise  and  reward  that  ex- 
cellence. 

National  interests  would  be  served  in  another 
way  by  the  publication  of  such  designs.  Our  his- 
tory exists  chiefly  in  dry  annals  or  stupid  compi- 
lations. The  original  memoirs  and  letters  are  lit- 
tle known  and  hard  of  access.  People  think  of 
our  history  as  a set  of  political  facts,  not  as  the 
lives  and  deaths  of  men  clad  in  skins,  and 
armour,  and  silk,  bounding  with  strength  and 
beauty,  flushed  with  love,  wrinkled  with  rage,  full 
of  chivalrous  ambition. 

The  Druid  in  his  grove — the  Monk  in  his 
abbey — the  Creaght  on  his  hill — the  Pagan  con- 
queror— the  Christian  liberator — the  Norman 
castle  with  its  courted  maidens,  its  iron  barons, 
and  its  plumed  train — the  Irish  rath  with  its 
circling  trench,  and  circling  woodland,  its  patri- 
arch prince,  its  Tartar  clan,  its  foster-love,  and 
its  harping  bards — the  Dane  in  his  galley — the 
Viceroy  in  his  council — the  Patriot  in  his  fore- 
thought— the  Martyr  in  his  endurance — the 
Hero  in  his  triumph — his  passing  triumph — who 


ILLUSTRATIONS  OF  IRELAND* 


167 


thought,  of  these  till  lately? — who  clearly  sees 
them  now  ? All  these  things  an  artist  illustra- 
ting Irish  history — illustrating  Moore,  or  Keat- 
ing— illustrating  (to  give  better  texts)  the  pub- 
lications of  the  Archaeological  Society — the 
tracts  in  the  Desiderata , or  the  Hibernica — the 
State  Papers — Carte’s  Ormond — Ware’s  Anti - 
quities , or  any  of  the  minuter  works  on  our  his- 
tory— can  show  us. 

How  suited  for  countless  illustrations  are  our 
Irish  fictions,  from  our  ancient  fairy  stories  to 
our  modern  novels.  In  The  Collegians , Suit 
Dhuv , Crohore , The  Fetches , The  Poor  Scholar , 
The  Faction  and  Party  Fight , Valentine 
BPClutchy,  there  are  countless  subjects  for  illus- 
tration, ranging  from  the  mildest  beauty  to  the 
utmost  sublimity. 

There  is  one  work  of  fiction  which  we  pecu- 
liarly desire  to  see  illustrated,  and  that  is  Grif- 
fin’s Invasion.  Its  great  length,  its  hard  words, 
and  its  freedom  from  hot  stimulants,  moderate 
its  popularity — but  there  is  in  it  the  most  ex- 
quisite beauty  of  scene  and  form,  the  purest 
loveliness,  the  most  original  heroism  of  any 
work  w"  iwn,  and  it  contains  besides  invaluable 
and  coul  ess  hints  on  the  appearance  of  ancient 
Ireland.  Nor  do  occasional  antiquarian  errors 
materially  lessen  the  value  of  the  book  to  an 
illustrator. 

Of  poetry,  Maclise  has  taken  the  best  subject 
— - The  Melodies  ; nor  can  we  advise  any  onk 
to  compete  with  him. 

But  we  have  wandered.  The  publication  <A 
outlines  on  our  historical  and  romantic  literature 


1G8  LITER  AH  Y AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

would  convey  a deep  and  fresh  sense  of  what 
Ireland  was  and  is,  and  of  what  her  writers 
have  described  or  created.  These  illustrations 
would  instruct  the  public  in  the  organisation  and 
costume  of  our  races,  give  new  and  distinct 
imagery  to  orator  and  writer,  and,  becoming 
confluent,  would  represent  Ireland  in  all  her 
periods — Ireland  imaginative,  as  well  as  actual 
and  historical. 

We  entreat  our  artists  as  they  love  their 
country,  as  they  owe  it  a service,  as  they  pity 
its  woes  and  errors,  as  they  are  wroth  at  its 
sufferings,  and  as  they  hope  to  share  and  aid  its 
advance,  to  use  this  opportunity  of  raising  the 
taste  and  cultivating  the  nationality  of  Ireland. 

We  shall  only,  in  addition,  repeat  the  proposal 
of  the  Art-Union  : — 

DRAWING  AND  COMPOSITION. 

“For  the  best  series  of  not  less  than  five  Outline  Draw- 
ings, illustrative  of  the  works  of  Irish  writers,  in  poetry, 
prose,  or  history,  30/. 

“Correct  drawing,  beauty  of  form  and  expression,  will 
be  especially  looked  for  ; should  the  committee  think  it 
advisable  to  engrave  the  outlines  selected,  a further  re- 
muneration will  be  given  to  the  artist : the  drawings, 
with  a sealed  letter  containing  the  name  and  address  of 
the  artist,  to  be  forwarded  to  the  Secretary  of  the  So- 
ciety, Board-room,  College-street,  Dublin,  previous  to 
the  1st  of  September  next.” 


HINTS  FOR  IRISH  HISTORICAL  PAINTINGS.  169 


HINTS  FOR  IRISH  HISTORICAL  PAINTINGS. 

National  art  is  conversant  with  national  sub- 
jects. We  have  Irish  artists,  but  no  Irish,  no 
national  art.  This  ought  not  to  continue ; it  is 
injurious  to  the  artists,  and  disgraceful  to  the 
country.  The  following  historical  subjects  wTere 
loosely  jotted  down  by  a friend.  Doubtless,  a 
more  just  selection  could  be  made  by  students 
noting  down  fit  subjects  for  painting  and  sculp- 
ture, as  they  read.  We  shall  be  happy  to  print 
any  suggestions  on  the  subject — our  own  are,  as 
we  call  them,  mere  hints  with  loose  references  to 
the  authors  or  books  which  suggested  them. 
For  any  good  painting,  the  marked  figures  must 
be  few,  the  action  obvious,  the  costume,  arms, 
architecture,  postures,  historically  exact,  and  the 
manners,  appearance,  and  rank  of  the  characters, 
strictly  studied  and  observed.  The  grouping  and 
drawing  require  great  truth  and  vigour.  A 
similar  set  of  subjects  illustrating  social  life  could 
be  got  from  the  Poor  Report,  Carleton’s,  Ba- 
nim’s,  or  Griffin’s  Stories,  or  better  still  froitf 
Dbservation. 

The  references  are  vague,  but  perhaps  suffi- 
cient. 

The  Landing  of  the  Milesians Keating,  Moore'i 

Melodies. 

Ollamh  Fodhla  Presenting  his  Laws  to  his  People. 
Keating’s,  Moore’s,  and  O’Halloran’s  Histories  of  Iro- 


170  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


land — Walker’s  Irish  Dress  and  Arms,  and  Vallaccey’i 
Collectanea. 

Nial  and  his  Nine  Hostages Moore,  Keating. 

A Druid’s  Augury Moore,  O’Halloran,  Keating. 

A Chief  Riding  Out  of  his  Fort Griffin’s  Invasion, 

Walker,  Moore. 

The  Oak  of  Kildare Moore. 

The  Burial  of  King  Dathy  in  the  Alps,  Ins  thinned 
troops  laying  stones  on  nis  grave. — M‘Geoghegan, 
I’Histoire  de  i’lrlande  (French  edition),  Invasion,  Wal- 
ker, Moore. 

St.  Patrick  brought  before  the  Druids  at  Tara 

Moore  and  his  Authorities. 

The  First  Landing  of  the  Danes See  Invasion, 

Moore,  &c. 

The  Death  of  Turgesius Keating,  Moore. 

Ccallachan  Tied  to  the  Mast Keating. 

Murkertach  Returning  to  Aileach Archaeological 

Society’s  Tracts. 

Brian  Reconnoitring  the  Danes  before  Ciontarf. 

The  Last  of  the  Danes  Escaping  to  his  Ship. 

O’Ruarc’s  Return Keating,  Moore’s  Melodies. 

Raymond  Le  Gros  Leaving  his  Bride Moore. 

Roderic  in  Conference  with  the  Normans. — Moore, 
M‘Geoghegan. 

Donald  O'Brien  Setting  Fire  to  Limerick — M‘Geoghe- 
gan. 

Donald  O’Brien  Visiting  Holycross M‘Geoghegan. 

O’Brien,  O’Connor,  and  M‘Carthy,  making  Peace  to 
Attack  the  Normans -M‘Geoghegan,  Moore. 

The  Same  Three  Victorious  at  the  Battle  of  Thur- 
les — Moore  and  O’Connor’s  Rerum  Hibernicarum  Scrip- 
tores. 

Irish  Chiefs  Leaving  Prince  John. — Moore,  &c. 

M‘Murrough  and  Gloster Harris’s  Hibernica,  p. 

53. 

Crowning  of  Edward  Bruce. — Leland,  Grace’s  An* 
Hals,  &c. 

Edgecombe  Vainly  Trying  to  Overawe  Kildare — liar* 
ris’s  Hibernica. 

Kildare  “on  the  Necks  of  the  Butlers.” — LelancL 

Shane  O’Neill  at  Elizabeth’s  Court — Leland. 


HINTS  FOR  IRISH  HISTORICAL  PAINTINGS.  171 


Lord  Sydney  Entertained  by  Shane  O’Neill. 

The  Battle  of  the  Bed  Coats O’Sullivan’s  Catholic 

History. 

Hugh  O’Neill  Victor  in  Single  Combat  at  Clonti 
bret Fynes  Moryson,  O’Sullivan,  M‘Geoghegan. 

The  Corleitts Dymmok’s  Treatise,  Archaeological 

Society’s  Tracts. 

Maguire  and  St.  Leger  in  Single  Combat M‘Geoghe- 

gan. 

O’Sullivan  Crossing  the  Shannon. — Pacata  EiiDer- 
nica. 

O’Dogherty  Keceiving  the  Insolent  Message  of  the 
Governor  of  Derry M‘Geoghegan. 

The  Brehon  Before  the  English  Judges. — Davis’s 
Letter  to  Lord  Salisbury. 

Ormond  Refusing  to  give  up  his  Sword Carte’s  Life 

of  Ormond. 

Good  Lookers  on Statford’s  Letters. 

Owen  Conolly  Before  the  Privy  Council,  1641 

Carey’s  Vindiciae. 

The  Battle  of  Julianstown Temple’s  Rebellion,  and 

Tichbourne’s  Drogheda. 

Owen  Roe  Organising  the  Creaghts — Carte,  and 
also  Belling  and  O’Neil  in  the  Desiderata  Curiosa 
Hibernica. 

The  Council  of  Kilkenny. — Carte. 

The  Breach  of  Clonmel Do. 

Smoking  Out  the  Irish — Ludlow’s  Memoirs. 

Burning  Them. — Castlehaven’s  Memoirs 

Nagle  Before  the  Privy  Council Harris’s  William. 

James’s  Entry  into  Dublin — Dublin  Magazine  for 
March,  1843. 

Bishop  King  Combining  Falsehoods  into  his  Book. 

The  Bridge  of  Athlone Green  Book  and  Authori- 

ties. 

St.  Ruth’s  Death Do. 

The  Embarkation  from  Limerick. — Do. 

Cremona Cox’s  Magazine. 

Fontenoy Do. 

Sir  S.  Rice  Pleading  against  the  Violation  of  the 

Treaty  of  Limerick Staunton's  Collection  of  Tracts  in 

Ireland. 


172  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


Molyneux’s  Book  Burned. 

Liberty  Boys  Reading  a Drapier’s  Letter. — Mason*! 
St.  Patrick’s  Cathedral. 

Lucas,  Surrounded  by  Dublin  Citizens  in  his  Shop. 

Grattan  Moving  Liberty Memoirs. 

Flood  Apostrophising  Corruption — Barrington. 

Dungannon  Convention Wilson  Barrington. 

Curran  Cross-examining  Armstrong Memoirs. 

Curran  Pleading  Before  the  Council  in  Alderman 
James’s  Case. 

Tone’s  First  Society See  his  Memoirs. 

The  Belfast  Club Madden’s  U.  I.,  2nd  Series, 

Vol.  I. 

Tone,  Emmet,  and  Keogh,  in  the  Rathfamham 
Garden. 

Tone  and  Carnot. — Tone’s  Memoirs. 

Battle  of  Oulart. — Hay,  Teeling,  &c. 

First  Meeting  of  the  Catholic  Association. 

O’Connell  Speaking  in  a Munster  Chapel. — Wyse’i 
Association. 

The  Clare  Hustings — Proposal  of  O’Connell. 

The  Dublin  Corporation  Speech. 

Father  Mathew  Administering  the  Pledge  in  a Mun- 
ster County. 

Conciliation — Orange  and  Green. 

The  Lifting  of  the  Irish  Flags  of  a National  Fleet  asd 

Am/. 


am  NATIONAL,  LANGUAGE. 


173 


OUR  NATIONAL  LANGUAGE, 

as  are  ever  valued  most  for  peculiar  and  ori- 
ginal qualities.  A man  who  can  only  talk  com- 
mon-place, and  act  according  to  routine,  has 
little  weight.  To  speak,  look,  and  do  what  your 
own  soul  from  its  depths  orders  you,  are  creden- 
tials of  greatness  which  all  men  understand  and 
acknowledge.  Such  a man’s  dictum  has  more 
influence  than  the  reasoning  of  an  imitative  or 
common-place  man.  He  fills  his  circle  with 
confidence.  He  is  self-possessed,  firm,  accurate, 
and  daring.  Such  men  are  the  pioneers  of 
civilization,  and  the  rulers  of  the  human  heart. 

Why  should  not  nations  be  judged  thus?  Is 
not  a full  indulgence  of  its  natural  tendencies 
essential  to  a people’s  greatness?  Force  the 
manners,  dress,  language,  and  constitution  of 
Russia,  or  Italy,  or  ^Norway,  or  America,  and  you 
instantly  stunt  and  distort  the  whole  mind  of 
either  people. 

The  language,  which  grows  up  with  a people, 
is  conformed  to  their  organs,  descriptive  of  their 
climate,  constitution,  and  manners,  mingled  in- 
separably with  their  history  and  their  soil,  fitted 
beyond  any  othe/  language  to  express  their  pre- 
valent thoughts  in  the  most  natural  and  efficient 
way. 

To  impose  another  language  on  such  a people 
is  to  send  their  history  adrift  among  the  acci 


174  LITERARY  AND  IllSTw.ICAL  ESSAYS. 

dents  of  translation — ’tis  to  tear  their  identity 
from  all  places — ’tis  to  substitute  arbitrary  signs 
for  picturesque  and  suggestive  names — ’tis  to  cut 
off  the  entail  of  feeling,  and  separate  the  people 
from  their  forefathers  by  a deep  gulf — ’tis  to 
corrupt  their  very  organs,  and  abridge  their 
power  of  expression. 

The  language  of  a nation’s  youth  is  the  only 
easy  and  full  speech  for  its  manhood  and  for  its 
age  And  when  the  language  of  its  cradle  goes, 
itself  craves  a tomb. 

What  business  has  a Russian  for  the  rippling 
language  of  Italy  or  India?  How  could  a Greek 
distort  his  organs  and  his  soul  to  speak  Dutch 
upon  the  sides  of  Hymetus,  or  the  beach  of 
Salamis,  or  on  the  waste  where  once  was  Sparta? 
And  is  it  befitting  the  fiery,  delicate-organed 
Celt  to  abandon  his  beautiful  tongue,  docile  and 
spirited  as  an  Arab,  44  sweet  as  music,  strong  as 
the  wave” — is  it  befitting  in  him  to  abandon  this 
wild  liquid  speech  for  the  mongrel  of  a hundred 
breeds  called  English,  which,  powerful  though  it 
be,  creaks  and  bangs  about  the  Celt  who  tries  to 
use  it  ? 

We  lately  met  a glorious  thought  in  the 
14  Triads  of  Mochmed,”  printed  in  one  of  the 
Welsh  codes  by  the  Record  Commission:  “There 
are  three  things  without  which  there  is  no 
country — common  language,  common  judicature, 
and  co-tillage  land — for  without  these  a coun- 
try cannot  support  itself  in  peace  and  social 
union.” 

A people  without  a language  of  its  own  is 
only  half  a nation.  A nation  should  d its 


OtJK  NATIONAL  LANGUAGE.  I 75 

language  more  than  its  territories— ’tis  a surer 
Darner,  and  more  important  frontier,  than  fortress 
or  river. 

And  in  good  times  it  has  ever  been  thought 
*o.  Who  had  dared  to  propose  the  adoption  of 
Persian  or  Egyptian  in  Greece — how  had 
Pericles  thundered  at  the  barbarian  ? How 
had  Cato  scourged  from  the  forum  him  who 
would  have  given  the  Attic  or  Gallic  speech  to 
men  of  Rome?  How  proudly  and  how  nobly 
Germany  stopped  “the  incipient  creeping’>  pro- 
gress of  French ! . And  no  sooner  had  she  sue 
ceeded,  than  her  genius,  which  had  tossed  in  a 
hot  trance,  sprung  up  fresh  and  triumphant. 

Had  Pyrrhus  quelled  Italy,  or  Xerxes  subdued 
Greece,  for  a time  long  enough  to  impose  new 
languages,  where  had  been  the  literature  which 
gives  a pedigree  to  human  genius  ? Even 
liberty  recovered  had  been  sickly  and  insecure 
without  the  language  with  which  it  had  hunted 
in  the  woods,  worshipped  at  the  fruit-strewn  altar, 
debated  on  the  council-hill,  and  shouted  in  the 
battle-charge. 

There  is  a fine  song  of  the  Frisians,  which  de- 
scribes— 

“ Language  linked  to  liberty.” 

To  lose  your  native  tongue,  and  learn  that  of  an 
alien,  is  the  worst  badge  of  conquest — it  is  the 
chain  on  the  soul.  To  have  lost  entirely  the 
national  language  is  death  ; the  fetter  has  worn 
through.  So  long  as  the  Saxon  held  to  his  Ger- 
man speech,  he  could  hope  to  resume  his  land 
from  the  Norman : now.  if  he  is  to  be  free  and 


176  I.ITER A.RV  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

locally  governed,  lie  must  build  himself  a new 
home.  There  is  hope  for  Scotland — strong  hope 
for  Wales — sure  hope  for  Hungary.  The  speech 
of  the  alien  is  not  universal  in  the  one ; is  gal- 
lantly held  at  bay  in  the  other ; is  nearly  expelled 
from  the  third. 

How  unnatural — how  corrupting  ’tis  for  us, 
three-fourths  of  whom  are  of  Celtic  blood,  to 
•peak  a medley  of  Teutonic  dialects.  If  we  add 
tli©  Celtic  Scots,  who  came  back  here  from  the 
thirteenth  to  the  seventeenth  centuries,  and  the 
Celtic  Welsh  who  colonised  many  parts  of 
Wexford  and  other  Leinster  counties,  to  the  Celts 
who  never  left  Ireland,  probably  five-sixths,  or 
more,  of  us  are  Celts.  What  business  have  we 
with  the  Norman  Sassenagh  ? 

Nor  let  any  doubt  these  proportions  because 
of  the  number  of  English  names  in  Ireland. 
With  a politic  cruelty,  the  English  of  the  Pale 
passed  an  act  (3  Edw.  IV.,  chap  3),  compelling 
every  Irishman  within  English  jurisdiction,  to 
go  like  to  one  Englishman  in  apparel,  and 
shaving  off  his  beard  above  the  mouth,”  ‘‘and 
shall  take  to  him  an  English  sirname  of  one 
town,  as  Sutton,  Chester,  Trym,  Skyrne,  Corke, 
Kinsale;  or  colour,  as  White,  Blacke,  Browne; 
or  art  or  science,  as  Smith,  or  Carpenter  ; or 
office,  as  Cook,  Butler  ; and  that  he  and  his  issue 
shall  use  this  name,  under  pain  of  forfeiting  his 
goods  yearly.” 

And  just  as  this  parliament  before  the  Refor- 
mation, s©  did  another  after  the  Reformation. 
By  the  28th  Henry  VIII.,  c.  lo,  the  dress  and 
language  of  the  Irish  were  insole’  tly  described 


OUR  NATIONAL  LANGUAGE. 


177 


as  barbarous  by  the  minions  of  that  ruffian  ki  ngv 
and  were  utterly  forbidden  and  abolished  unde! 
many  penalties  and  incapacities.  These  lav^ 
are  still  in  force  ; but  whether  the  Archaeological 
Society,  including  Peel  and  O’ Connell,  will  be 
prosecuted,  seems  doubtful. 

There  was  also,  ’tis  to  be  feared,  an  adoption 
of  English  names,  during  some  periods,  from 
fashion,  fear,  or  meanness.  Some  of  our  best 
Irish  names,  too,  have  been  so  mangled  -as  to  re- 
quire some  scholarship  to  identify  them.  For 
these  and  many  more  reasons,  the  members  of 
the  Celtic  race  here  are  immensely  greater  than 
at  first  appears. 

But  this  is  not  all;  for  even  the  Saxon  and 
Norman  colonists,  notwithstanding  these  laws, 
melted  down  into  the  Irish  and  adopted  all  their 
ways  and  language.  For  centuries  upon  centu- 
ries Irish  was  spoken  by  men  of  all  bloods  in 
Ireland,  and  English  was  unknown,  save  to  a 
few  citizens  and  nobles  of  the  Pale.  ’Tis  only 
within  a very  late  period  that  the  majority  of  the 
people  learned  English. 

But,  it  will  be  asked,  how  can  the  language  be 
restored  now  ? 

We  shall  answer  this  partly  by  saying  that, 
through  the  labours  'of  the  Archaeological  and 
many  lesser  societies,  it  is  being  revised  ra- 
pidly. 

We  shall  consider  this  question  of  the  po&~ 
Ability  of  reviving  it  more  at  length  some  other 
iav . 

Nothing  can  make  us  believe  that  it  is  natural 
or  honourably  for  the  Irish  to  speak  the  speech 


i?S  I.1TERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

of  the  alien,  the  invader,  the  Sassenagh  tyrant, 
and  to  abandon  the  language  of  our  kings  and 
heroes.  What  ! give  up  the  tongue  of  Ollamh 
Fodhla  and  Brian  Boru,  the  tongue  of  M‘Garty, 
and  the  O’Nials,  the  tongue  of  Sarsfield’s,  Cur- 
ran’s, Mathew’s,  and  O’Connell’s  boyhood,  for 
that  of  Strafford  and  Poynings,  Sussex,  Kirk, 
and  Cromwell ! 

No,  oil  ! no ! “ the  brighter  days  shall  surely 
come,”  and  the  green  flag  shall  wave  on  our 
towers,  and  the  sweet  old  language  be  heard 
once  more  in  college,  mart,  and  senate. 

But,  even  should  the  effort  to  save  it  as  the 
national  language  fail,  by  the  attempt  we  will 
rescue  its  old  literature,  and  hand  down  to  our 
descendants  proofs  that  we  had  a language  as  fit 
for  love,  and  war,  and  business,  and  pleasure,  as 
th.e  world  ever  knew,  and  that  we  had  not  the 
spirit  and  nationality  to  preserve  it ! 

Had  Swift  known  Irish,  he  would  have  sowed 
its  seed  by  the  side  of  that  nationality  which  he 
planted,  and  the  close  of  the  last  century  would 
have  seen  the  one  as  flourishing  as  the  other. 
Had  Ireland  used  Irish  in  1782,  would  it  not 
have  impeded  England’s  re-conquest  of  us  ? 
But  ’tis  not  yet  too  late. 

For  you,  if  the  mixed  speech  called  English 
was  laid  with  sweetmeats  on  your  child’s  'tongue, 
English  is  the  best  speech  of  manhood.  And  yef, 
reader,  in  that  case  you  are  unfortunate.  The 
hills,  and  lakes,  and  rivers,  the  forts  and  castles, 
the  churches  and  parishes,  the  baronies  and 
counties  around  you^  have  all  Irish  names— 
names  which  describe  the  nature  of  the  seen*: 


OUR  NATIONAL  LANGUAGE. 


179 


or  ground,  the  name  of  founder,  or  chief,  or 
priest,  or  the  leading  fact  in  the  history  of  the 
place.  To  you  these  are  names  hard  to  pro- 
nounce, and  without  meaning. 

And  yet  it  were  well  for  you  to  know  them. 
That  knowledge  would  be  a topography,  and  a 
history,  and  romance,  walking  by  your  side,  and 
helping  your  discourse.  Meath  tells  its  flatness, 
Clonmel  the  abundant  riches  of  its  valley,  Fer- 
managh is  the  land  of  the  lakes,  Tyrone  the 
country  of  Owen,  Kilkenny  the  Church  of  St. 
Canice,  Dunmore  the  great  fort,  Athenry  the 
Ford  of  the  Kings,  Dunleary  the  Fort  of  O’Lea- 
ry ; and  the  Phoenix  Park,  instead  of  taking  its 
name  from  a fable,  recognises  as  christener,  the 
“ sweet  water”  which  yet  springs  near  the  East- 
gate. 

All  the  names  of  our  airs  and  songs  are  Irish, 
and  we  every  day  are  as  puzzled  and  ingeniously 
wrong  about  them  as  the  man  who,  when  asked 
for  the  air,  I am  asleep,  and  don’t  waken  me,H 
called  it  “ Tommy  M‘Cullagh  made  boots  for 
me.” 

The  bulk  of  our  history  and  poetry  are  written 
in  Irish,  and  shall  we,  who  learn  Italian,  and 
Latin,  and  Greek,  to  read  Dante,  Livy,  and 
Homer  in  the  original — shall  we  be  content  with 
ignorance  or  a translation  of  Irish  ? 

The  want  of  modern  scientific  words  in  Irish 
23  undeniable,  and  doubtless  we  should  adopt  the 
existing  names  into  our  language.  The  Ger- 
mans have  done  the  same  thing,  and  no  one  calls 
German  mongrel  on  that  account.  Most  of 
these  names  are  clumsy  and  extravagant  ; thev 


180  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


are  almost  all  derived  from  Greek  or  Latin,  and 
cut  as  foreign  a figure  in  French  and  English  as 
they  would  in  Irish.  Once  Irish  was  recognised 
as  a language  to  he  learned  as  much  as  Frencli 
or  Italian,  our  dictionaries  would  fill  up,  and  our 
vocabularies  ramify,  to  suit  all  the  wants  of  life 
and  conversation. 

These  objections  are  ingenious  refinements, 
however,  rarely  thought  of  till  after  the  other 
and  great  objection  has  been  answered. 

The  usual  objection  to  attempting  the  revival 
of  Irish  is,  that  it  could  not  succeed. 

If  an  attempt  were  made  to  introduce  Irish, 
either  through  the  national  schools  or  the  courts 
of  law,  into  the  eastern  side  of  the  island,  it 
would  certainly  fail,  and  the  re-action  might  ex- 
tinguish it  altogether.  But  no  one  contemplates 
this  save  as  a dream  of  what  may  happen  a hun- 
dred years  hence.  It  is  quite  another  thing  to 
say,  as  we  do,  that  the  Irish  language  should  be 
cherished,  taught,  and  esteemed,  and  that  it  can 
be  preserved  and  gradually  extended. 

What  we  seek  is,  that  the  people  of  the  upper 
classes  should  have  their  children  taught  the 
language  which  explains  our  names  of  person? 
or  places,  our  older  history,  and  our  music,  and 
which  is  spoken  in  the  majority  of  our  counties, 
rather  than  Italian,  German,  or  French.  It 
would  be  more  useful  in  life,  more  serviceable  to 
the  taste  and  genius  of  young  people,  and  a 
more  flexible  accomplishment  for  an  Irish  man 
or  woman  to  speak,  sing,  and  write  Irish  than 
French. 

At  present  the  middle  classes  think  it  a sign 


OUR  NATIONAL  LANGUAGE. 


181 


of  vulgarity  to  speak  Irish — the  children  are 
everywhere  taught  English  and  English  alone  in 
schools — and,  what  is  worse,  they  are  urged  by 
rewards  and  punishments  to  speak  it  at  home, 
for  English  is  the  language  of  their  masters. 
Now  we  think  the  example  and  exertions  of  the 
upper  classes  would  be  sufficient  to  set  the  oppo- 
site and  better  fashion  of  preferring  Irish  ; and, 
even  as  a matter  of  taste,  we  think  them  bound  to 
do  so.  And  we  ask  it  of  the  pride,  the  pa- 
triotism, and  the  hearts  of  our  farmers  and  shop- 
keepers, will  they  try  to  drive  out  of  their 
children’s  minds  the  native  language  of  almost 
every  great  man  we  had,  from  Brian  Boru  to 
O’Connell — will  they  meanly  sacrifice  the  lan- 
guage which  names  their  hills,  and  towns,  and 
music,  to  the  tongue  of  the  stranger? 

About  half  the  people  west  of  a line  drawn 
from  Derry  to  Waterford  speak  Irish  habitually; 
and  in  some  of  the  mountain  tracts  east  of  that 
line  it  is  still  common.  Simply  requiring  the 
teachers  of  the  National  Schools  in  these  Irish- 
speaking districts  to  know  Irish,  and  supplying 
them  with  Irish  translations  of  the  school  books, 
would  guard  the  language  where  it  now  exists, 
and  prevent  it  from  being  swept  away  by  the 
English  tongue,  as  the  red  Americans  have  been 
by  the  English  race  from  New  York  to  New 
Orleans. 

The  example  of  the  upper  classes  would  ex- 
tend and  develop  a modern  Irish  literature,  and 
the  hearty  support  they  have  given  to  the  Archae- 
ological Society  makes  us  hope  that  they  will 
have  sense  and  spirit  to  do  so. 


182  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYfJ. 

But  the  establishment  of  a newspaper  partly 
or  wholly  Irish  would  be  the  most  rapid  and 
sure  way  of  serving  the  language.  The  Irish- 
speaking man  would  find,  in  his  native  tongue, 
the  political  news  and  general  information  he  has 
now  to  seek  in  English  ; and  the  English  speak- 
ing man,  having  Irish  frequently  before  him  in 
so  attractive  a form,  would  be  tempted  to  learn 
its  characters,  and  by-and-by  its  meaning. 

These  newspapers  in  many  languages  are  now 
to  be  found  everywhere  but  here.  In  South 
America  many  of  these  papers  are  Spanish  and 
English,  or  French;  in  North  America,  French 
and  English ; in  Northern  Italy,  German  and 
Italian ; in  Denmark  and  Holland,  German  is 
used  in  addition  to  the  native  tongue  : in  Alsace 
and  Switzerland,  French  and  German  ; in  Po- 
land, German,  French,  and  Sclavonic;  in  Tur- 
key^ French  and  Turkish  ; in  Hungary,  Maggar, 
Sclavonic,  and  German;  and  the  little  Canton 
of  Grison  uses  three  languages  in  its  press.  With 
the  exception  of  Hungary,  the  secondary  lan- 
guage is,  in  all  cases,  spoken  by  fewer  persons 
than  the  Irish  speaking  people  of  Ireland,  and 
while  they  everywhere  tolerate  and  use  one  lan- 
guage as  a medium  of  commerce,  they  cherish 
the  other  as  the  vehicle  of  history,  the  wings  of 
song,  the  soil  of  their  genius,  and  a mark,  and 
guard  of  nationality 


AN  IRISH  GRAMMAR. 


m 


O' DONOVAN’S  IRISH  GRAMMAR. 

Mr.  O’Dojsovan  has  the  reputation  (right  well 
earned,  we  believe)  of  being  the  best  Celtic 
scholar  alive.  He  is  a man  eminently  cautious  ; 
anu  disposed,  from  the  highest  motives,  rather 
against  the  pretensions  of  Gaelic  literature.  His 
grammar,  begun  in  1828,  has  been  gradually 
ripened  while  he  was  engaged  on  the  orthography 
of  the  Ordnance  Survey,  and  in  editing  the  best 
and  most  learned  of  the  publications  of  the 
Archaeological  Society.  It  is  now  published  as 
the  class-book,  and  with  the  guarantee  of  the 
College  of  St.  Columba.  His  capacity,  disposi- 
tion, and  opportunities,  and  the  circumstances  of 
the  publication,  will,  therefore,  place  his  gram- 
mar at  once,  and  without  question,  at  the  head  of 
Celtic  literature. 

The  work  is  quite  (shall  we  not  say,  wonder- 
fully ?)  free  from  the  vehement  style  and  sweep- 
ing assertions,  so  often  and  so  mischievously 
carried  from  the  forum  to  the  study,  by  Irish 
writers. 

One  need  not  be  a master,  nor  even  a student 
of  the  Irish  language,  to  find  interest  and  know- 
ledge in  this  work.  It  is  no  regiment  of  rules 
without  reason,  illustration,  or  authority,  like 
most  grammars.  It  is  a profound  and  discursive 
treatise  01  the  pronunciation,  inflections,  struc- 
ture, and  prosody  of  the  most  perfect  of  the 


184  LITEKARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

Celtic  tongues.  There  is  not,  we  are  sure,  an 
antiquarian  or  philologist  in  Europe  but  will 
grasp  it  as  the  long-wished-for  key  to  facts  locked 
in  the  obscurity  of  a language,  whose  best  gram- 
marians had  only  the  dialect  of  their  own  pa- 
rishes, and  whose  most  notable  grammars  were  the 
work  of  pretenders. 

From  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  to  the  rules 
of  versification,  every  portion  of  the  Grammar  is 
argued  and  illustrated — the  argument  not  frantic 
speculation  on  the  tongues  of  Tyre  or  Babel, 
but  the  philosophy  of  one  who  has  weighed  the 
metaphysics  of  language  in  Tooke,  Mill,  and 
Harris — the  illustrations  (drawn  out  of  his  own 
and  Mr.  Curry’s  reading  and  experience),  ex- 
tending from  the  hymns  of  the  early  saints,  to 
the  Jacobite  ballads,  from  Cormack’s  glossary,  to 
the  slang  of  the  Munster  masons. 

You  cannot  open  a page  of  it  without  finding 
some  fact  or  fragment  which  lightens  the  history 
of  the  country,  the  customs  of  the  people,  and 
the  idiom  which  they  have  brought  into  English. 
In  the  chapter  on  Prepositions  alone  (running  to 
thirty-eight  close  pages)  there  are  pleasant  mate- 
rials for  long  study  to  any  student  of  Ireland,  be 
he  ever  so  ignorant  of  Irish. 

Yet  no  one  must  suppose  that  this  work  is 
merely  an  antiquarian  miscellany,  or  a philolo- 
gical treatise,  or  both. 

It  is  a thoroughly  practical  Irish  Grammar 
It  gi  ves,  with  care  and  simplicity,  the  most  per* 
feet  forms  and  rules  (according  to  the  best  judg- 
ment of  its  author),  and  then  proceeds  to  explain 


AN  IRISH  GRAMMAR. 


183 


2hc  effect  of  each  rule,  and  the  reasons  for  it  to 
show  the  variations  from  it  daring  different  ages 
and  in  distant  parts  of  the  island. 

These  minute  details  of  provincial  pronun- 
ciation are  here  given  for  the  first  time,  and  any 
one  who  has  ever  attempted  to  learn  Irish  will 
know  the  value  of  them. 

It  has  been  made  a reproach  to  the  Irish  lan- 
guage, that  it  varies  from  Kerry  to  Cork,  from 
Kilkenny  to  Galway,  from  Donegal  to  Armagh, 
and  from  Louth  to  Antrim.  The  difference  in 
this  last  county  is  great ; but  the  Gaelic  of  the 
Antrim  glens  is  the  Erse,  or  Albanian  dialect, 
brought  from  Argyleshire  and  the  Hebrides  dur- 
ing the  fourteenth,  fifteenth,  and  sixteenth  cen- 
turies. It  is  a prodigal  son  returned  a good 
deal  the  worse  for  having  been  so  lone:  on  the 
shaughran  ! 

The  variety  of  dialects  in  Ireland  is  hardly 
greater  than  in  other  countries.  We  have  tried 
hopelessly  to  understand  a Zomerzetshire  peasant 
talking  English,  and  the  difference  between  York- 
shire, Norfolkshire,  and  Cockney  shire  are  im- 
mense. No  two  provinces  in  Germany  speak 
the  one  dialect.  The  Bavarian  and  the  Olden- 
burger,  the  Hessian  and  the  Silesian,  are  as 
wide  from  each  other  in  dialect  as  the  Kerryman 
and  the  native  of  Armagh  ; and  the  Low  Dutch 
of  Holland  and  the  Danish  are  as  far  from  the 
pure  tongue  of  Frankfort,  as  Erse  and  Manx 
from  the  classic  speech  of  Galway. 

By  the  way,  let  us  pause  for  a moment  to  give 
the  original  authority  for  the  distinctive  qualities 


186  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAIS. 

rf  provincial  speaking,  with  which  we  are  all 
familiar  in  a ruder  way  : — 

44  The  Munsterman  has  the  accent  without  the  pro- 
priety. 

44  The  Ulsterman  lias  the  propriety  without  the  ac- 
cent. 

44  The  Leinsterman  has  neither  the  propriety  nor  the 
accent. 

44  The  Connaughtmau  has  the  accent  and  the  pro- 
priety/* 

Mr.  0‘Donovan  gives  us  a paraphrase  of  these 
proverbs,  published  by  Lombard,  in  his  De 
Reqno  in  1632  ; so  that  the  notion  is  an  old  one. 

But  talking  of  dialects,  it  was  only  since 
Luthers  Bible  that  Germany  began  to  have  a 
standard  language.  Dante  took  up  the  speech 
prevalent  about  Florence,  and  founded  classic 
Italian  ; but  to  this  hour  neither  the  Venetian, 
nor  the  Neapolitan,  nor  the  Sicilian,  have  aban- 
doned their  old  dialects  Similar  differences  exist 
in  France,  Spain,  and  everywhere. 

Let  us  no  more  hear,  then,  of  this  objection  to 
Irish  ; but  trust  that  the  labours  of  Mr.  O* Do- 
novan. Mr.  Curry,  Mr.  Connellan,  t he  Rev.  Mr. 
O’Sullivan,  of  Bandon,  and  whoever  besides  are 
the  best  of  our  Celtic  scholars,  will  be  combined 
to  produce  such  standards  as  will  make  this  age 
the  founding-time  or  the  epoch  of  restoration  fot 
the  Gaelic  language. 


INSTITUTIONS  OF  DUBLIN. 


187 


INSTITUTIONS  OF  DUBLIN. 

Judged  by  the  Directory,  Dublin  is  nobly  sup- 
plied with  institutions  for  the  promotion  of 
Literature,  Science,  and  Art  ; and,  judged  by  its 
men,  there  is  mind  enough  here  to  make  these 
Institutions  prosper,  and  instruct  and  raise  the 
country.  Yet  their  performances  are  far  short 
of  these  promises,  and  the  causes  for  ill  success 
are  easily  found.  We  believe  these  causes  could 
be  almost  as  easily  removed. 

In  the  first  place,  we  have  too  many  of  these 
Institutions.  Stingy  grants  from  Government 
and  the  general  poverty  of  the  people  render 
economy  a matter  of  first  consequence  ; yet  we 
find  these  societies  maintaining  a number  of 
separate  establishments,  at  a great  expense  of 
rent  and  salaries. 

The  consequence,  of  coursie,  is  that  none  of 
them  flourishes  as  it  ought — museums,  meetings, 
lectures,  libraries,  and  exhibitions  are  all  flittered 
away,  and  nothing  is  done  so  well  as  it  might 
be.  Moreover,  from  the  want  of  any  arrange- 
ment and  order,  the  same  men  are  dragged  from 
one  society  to  another — few  men  do  much, 
because  all  are  forced  to  attempt  so  many  things. 

But  tis  better  to  examine  this  in  detail,  and 
in  doing  so  we  may  as  well  give  some  leading 
facts  as  to  the  chief  of  these  bodies.  Take  for 
example,  as  a beginning,  the 


188  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

Institutions  for  tiie  Promotion  of  Fine 
Arts. 

And  first,  there  is  the  Hibernian  Academy 
It  was  founded  in  1823,  received  a present  of  its 
house  in  Abbey -street,  and  some  books  and  casts, 
from  Francis  Johnston  (a  Dublin  architect),  and 
has  the  miserable  income  of  300/.  a year  from 
the  Treasury.  It  has  a drawing-school,  with  a 
few  casts,  no  pictures,  bad  accommodation,  and 
professors  whose  pay  is  nearly  nominal. 

It  undoubtedly  has  some  men  of  great  ability 
and  attainments  (and  some  who  have  neither) ; 
but  what  can  be  done  without  funds,  statues,  or 
pictures.  To  aggravate  its  difficulties,  the  Dub- 
lin Society  has  another  art  school,  still  worse  off 
as  to  casts,  and  equally  deficient  in  pictures.  As  a 
place  of  instruction  in  the  designing  of  patterns 
for  manufactures  and  the  like,  the  Dublin  Society 
school  has  worked  well ; and  many  of  the  best 
paid  controllers  of  design  in  the  English  manu- 
factories were  educated  there  ; but  as  a school  of 
fine  arts  it  does  little;  and  no  wonder.  Another 
branch  of  the  Hibernian  Academy's  operations 
is  its  annual  exhibitions  of  pictures.  These  ex- 
hibitions attract  crowds  who  would  never  other- 
wise see  a painting,  promote  thought  on  art,  and 
procure  patronage  for  artists.  In  this,  too,  the 
Hibernian  Academy  has  recently  found  a rival 
in  the  Society  of  Irish  Artists  established  in  1^42, 
which  has  an  annual  exhibition  in  College-street, 
and  pays  the  expenses  of  the  exhibition  out  of 
the  admission  fees,  as  does  the  Hibernian  Aca- 
demy. We  are  not  attaching  blame  to  the  Society 
of  Irish  Artists  in  noticing  the  fact  of  its  rivalry 


INSTITUTIONS  OF  DUBLIN. 


183 


There  are  three  other  bodies  devoted  to  the 
encouragement  of  art.  One  of  these  is  the  Art* 
Union,  founded  in  1840,  and  maintained  entirety 
by  subscriptions  to  its  lottery.  It  distributes 
fine  engravings  from  Irish  pictures  among  all  its 
members,  and  pictures  and  statues,  bought  in 
the  exhibitions  of  the  Hibernian  Academy,  and 
of  the  society  of  Irish  Artists,  among  its  prize- 
holders  ; and  it  gives  premiums  for  the  works  of 
native  or  resident  artists.  Its  operation  is  as 
a patron  of  art ; and,  in  order  t > get  funds  for 
this  purpose,  and  also  to  secure  superior  works 
and  a higher  competition,  it  extends  its  pur- 
chases to  the  best  foreign  works  exhibited  here. 
It  ha^  no  collection,  and  has  merely  an  office  in 
College-street — in  fact,  its  best  permanent  pos- 
session is  its  unwearied  Secretary.  The  Society 
of  Ancient  Art  was  established  last  year  for  the 
formation  of  a public  gallery  of  casts  from  classi- 
cal and  mediceval  statues,  and  ultimately  for  pur- 
poses of  direct  teaching  by  lectures,  &c.  It  ob- 
tained some  funds  by  subscription  ; but  und  r the 
expectation,  ’tis  said,  of  a public  grant,  has  done 
nothing.  Lastly,  there  is  the  “ Institute  of  Irish 
Architects,”  founded  hi  1839,  “ for  the  general 
advancement  of  civil  architecture,  for  promoting 
and  facilitating  the  acquirement  of  a knowledge 
of  the  various  arts  and  sciences  connected  there- 
with, for  the  formation  of  a Library  and  Museum, 
&c” 

To  us  it  is  very  plain  that  here  are  too  many 
institutions,  and  that  the  efficiency  of  all  suffers 
materially  from  their  want  of  connexion  and 
arrangement.  Some,  at  least,  might  be  amal- 


190  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  Eo 

gamated  with  great  advantage,  or  rather  all, 
except  the  Art  Union.  That  is  only  a club  of 
purchasers,  and  any  attempt  materially  to  change 
its  nature  would  peril  its  funds.  Some  such  plan 
as  the  following  would  accomplish  all  that  is 
vainly  attempted  now.  Let  the  government  be 
pressed  to  give  2,000/.  a year,  if  the  public  supply 
1,000/.  a year.  Let  this  income  go  to  a new 
Hibernian  Academy — the  present  Hibernian 
Academy,  Artists’  Society,  Society  of  Ancient 
Art,  the  Art  schools  of  the  Dublin  Society,  and 
the  Institute  of  Irish  Architects,  being  merged 
in  it.  This  merger  could  be  easily  secured 
through  the  inducements  secured  by  the  charter, 
and  by  accommodation,  salaries  and  utility  of 
the  new  body.  The  present  property  of  these 
bodies,  with  some  moderate  grant,  would  suffice 
for  the  purchase  of  a space  of  ground  ample  for 
the  schools,  museums,  library,  lecture-room,  and 
yards  of  such  an  institution. 

At  the  head  of  it  should  be  a small  body 
governing  and  accounting  for  its  finances,  but 
no  person  should  be  a governing  member  of  more 
than  one  of  its  sections.  These  sections  should 
be  for  Statuary,  Painting,  Architecture,  and 
Design  Drawing.  Each  of  these  sections  should 
have  its  own  Gallery  and  its  own  Practice  Rooms; 
bnt  one  Library  and  one  public  Lecture  Room 
would  suffice  for  the  entire.  The  architectural 
section  would  also  need  some  open  space  for  its 
experiments  and  its  larger  specimens.  A present 
of  copies  of  the  British  Museum  casts,  along  with 
the  fun/I  of  the  Ancient  Art  Society,  would 
originate  a Cast  Gallery*  *md  a few  good  pictures 


INSTITUTIONS  OF  DUBLIN. 


191 


could  be  bought  as  a commencement  of  a Na- 
tional Gallery  of  Painting,  leaving  the  economy 
of  the  managers  and  the  liberality  of  the  publio 
gradually  to  fill  it.  Collections  of  native  works 
in  canvass  and  marble,  and  architectural  models 
could  be  soon  and  cheaply  procured.  The  Art 
Library  of  the  Dublin  Society  added  to  that  of 
the  Hibernian  Academy  would  need  few  additions 
to  make  it  sufficient  for  the  new  body. 

Such  an  Institute  ought  not  to  employ  any  but 
the  best  teachers  and  lecturers.  Jt  should  en- 
courage proficiency  by  rewards  that  would  in- 
struct the  proficient ; it  should  apply  itself  to 
cataloguing,  preserving,  and  making  known  all 
the  works  of  art  in  the  country  ; give  prizes  for 
ariistical  works;  publish  its  lectures  and  transac- 
tions ; issue  engravings  of  the  most  instructive 
works  of  art ; and  hold  evening  meetings,  to 
which  ladies  would  be  admitted.  It  should  allow 
at  least  400/.  a year  for  support  of  free  pupils. 
In  connexion  with  its  drawing  modelling 
schools  should  be  a professorship  of  anatomy,  or, 
what  were  better,  some  arrangement  might  be 
made  with  the  College  of  Surgeons,  or  some  such 
body,  for  courses  of  instruction  for  its  pupils. 
The  training  for  its  pupils  in  sculpture,  painting, 
and  design, should  include  the  study  of  ancient 
and  modern  costumes,  zoology,  and  of  vegetable 
and  geological  forms.  For  this  purpose  books 
should  not  be  so  much  relied  on  as  lectures  in 
gardens,  museums,  and  during  student  excur- 
sions.. Of  course,  the  architectural  pupils  should 
be  required  to  answer  at  a preliminary  examina- 
tion in  mathematics,  and  should  receive  special 


192  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


instruction  in  the  building  materials,  action  of 
climate,  &c.,  in  Ireland. 

Were  the  buildings  standing,  and  the  society 
chartered  judiciously,  the  sum  we  have  mentioned 
would  be  sufficient.  Four  professors  at  from 
200/.  to  300/.  a year  each,  four  assistants  at  100/. 
a year  each,  a librarian  at  the  same  rate,  with 
payments  for  extra  instruction  in  anatomy,  &c., 
<fcc.,  and  for  porters,  premiums,  and  so  forth, 
would  not  exceed  2,000/.  a year.  So  that  if 
400/.  were  expended  on  free  pupils,  there  would 
remain  600/.  a year  for  the  purchase  of  works  for 
the  galleries. 

At  present  there  is  much  waste  of  money, 
great  annoyance,  and  loss  of  time  to  the  sup- 
porters of  these  institutions,  and  marvellously 
little  benefit  to  art.  The  plan  we  have  proposed 
would  be  economical  both  of  time  and  money  ; 
but,  what  is  of  more  worth,  it  would  give  us, 
what  we  have  not  now,  a National  Gallery  of 
Statuary  and  Painting — good  Exhibition- Rooms 
for  works  of  art — business-like  Lecturers  and 
Lectures — great  public  excitement  about  art — 
and  finally,  a greaf  National  Academy. 

If  any  one  has  a better  plan,  let  him  say  it;  we 
have  told  ours.  At  all  events,  some  great  change 
is  needed,  and  there  can  be  no  fitter  time  than  this 
for  it. 

In  any  community  it  is  desirable  to  have  Li- 
terary Institutions,  as  well  classified  as  legal 
offices,  and  as  free  from  counter-action  ; but  it  is 
Specially  desirable  here  now.  Our  literary  class 
is  small,  and  its  duties  measureless.  The  diseased 
suction  of  London  — the  absence  of  gentry,  offices 


INSTITUTIONS  OF  DUBLIN. 


193 


and  Legislature — the  heart-sickness  that  is  on 
every  thoughtful  man  without  a country — the 
want  of  a large,  educated,  and  therefore  book- 
buying  class — and  (it  must  be  confessed)  the 
depression  and  distrust  produced  by  rash  experi- 
ments and  paltry  failure,  have  left  us  with  few 
men  for  a great  work.  Palpably  the  great  re- 
medy is  the  restoration  of  our  Parliament,  bring- 
ing back,  as  it  would,  the  aristocracy  and  the 
public  offices,  giving  society  and  support  to 
Writers  and  Artists,  and  giving  them  a coun- 
try’s praise  to  move  and  a country’s  glory  to  re- 
ward them. 

But  one  of  the  very  means  of  attaining  na- 
tionality is  securing  some  portion  of  that  literary 
force  which  would  gusli  abundantly  from  it ; and 
therefore,  consider  it  how  you  will,  it  is  impor- 
tant to  increase  and  economise  the  exertions  of 
the  literary  class  in  Ireland.  Yet  the  reverse  is 
done.  Institutions  are  multiplied  instead  of  those 
being  made  efficient  which  exist ; and  men  talk 
as  proudly  of  the  new  “ Teach’em-everything-in- 
no-time- Society”  as  if  its  natty  laws  were  a 
library,  its  desk  a laboratory  and  a museum,  and 
its  members  fresh  labourers,  when  all  they  have 
done  is  to  waste  the  time  of  persons  who  had 
business,  and  to  delude  those  who  had  none  into 
ffie  belief  that  they  were  doing  good.  Ephemeral 
things  ! which  die  not  without  mischief — they 
have  wasted  hours  and  days  of  strong  men  in 
spinning  sand,  and  leave  depression  growing 
from  their  tombs. 

It  is  a really  useful  deed  to  rescue  from  dissi- 
pation, or  from  idle  reading,  or  from  mammon- 


1®4  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

hunting,  one  strong  passionate  man  or  boy,  and 
to  set  him  to  work  investigating,  arranging, 
teaching.  It  is  an  honest  task  to  shame  the 
Troidered  youth  from  meditation  on  waistcoats 
and  the  display  of  polka  steps  into  manly  pur- 
suits. It  is  an  angel’s  mission  (oftenest  the  work 
of  love)  to  startle  a sleeping  and  unconscious 
genius  into  the  spring  and  victory  of  a roused 
lion.  But  it  is  worse  than  useless  to  establish 
new  associations  and  orders  without  well  consi- 
dering first  whether  the  same  machinery  do  not 
already  exist  and  rust  for  want  of  the  very  energy 
and  skill  which  you  need,  too.  There  is  a bridge 
in  a field  near  Blarney  Castle  where  water  never 
ran.  It  was  built  “ at  the  expense  of  the  county.” 
These  men  build  their  mills  close  as  houses  in  a 
capital,  taking  no  thought  for  the  stream  to  turn 
them. 

We  have  already  censured  this,  in  some  detail, 
with  reference  to  societies  for  the  promotion  of 
the  Fine  Arts,  and  have  urged  the  formation, 
out  of  all  these  fiddling,  clashing  bodies,  of  some 
one  great  institution  for  the  promotion  of  Paint- 
ing, Sculpture,  and  Architecture,  with  a Mu- 
seum, a Library,  a Gallery,  and  Lecturers, 
governed  by  professional  minds,  great  enough 
to  be  known  and  regarded  by  the  people,  and 
popular  and  strong  enough  to  secure  Government 
support. 

Similar  defects  exist  everywhere.  Take  the 
Dublin  Society  for  example.  Nothing  can  be 
more  heterogeneous  than  its  objects.  We  are 
far  from  denying  its  utility.  That  utility  is  im- 
mense, the  institution  is  native,  of  old  standing 


INSTITUTIONS  OF  DUBLIN* 


195 


(It  was  founded  in  1731),  national,  and,  when 
!t  wanted  support,  our  pen  was  not  idle  in  its 
ibehalf. 

But  we  believe  its  utility  greatly  diminished 
by  its  attempting  too  many  things,  and  especially 
by  including  objects  more  fitly  belonging  to  other 
institutions ; and  on  the  opposite  it  is  maimed, 
by  the  interference  of  other  bodies,  in  its  na- 
tural functions.  The  Dublin  Society  was  founded 
for  the  promotion  of  husbandry  and  other  useful 
arts.  Its  labours  to  serve  agriculture  have  been 
repeated  and  extensive,  though  not  always  judi- 
cious. It  has  also  endeavoured  to  promote  ma- 
nufactures. It  has  gardens  and  museums  fitter 
for  scientific  than  practical  instruction,  admirable 
lecturers,  a library  most  generously  opened,  a 
drawing  school  of  the  largest  purposes  and  of 
equivocal  success,  and  various  minor  branches. 

The  Irish  Academy  has  some  of  this  fault.  It 
endeavours  to  unite  antiquarianism  and  abstract 
science.  Its  meetings  are  alternately  entertained 
with  mathematics  and  history,  and  its  transac- 
tions are  equally  comprehensive.  We  yield  to 
none  in  anxiety  for  the  promotion  of  antiquarian 
studies  ; we  think  the  public  and  the  government 
disgraced  by  the  slight  support  given  to  the  aca- 
demy. We  are  not  a little  proud  of  the  honoui 
and  strength  given  to  our  country  by  the  science 
of  MacCullagh,  Hamilton,  and  Lloyd  ; but  we 
protest  against  the  attempt  to  mix  the  armoury 
of  the  ancient  Irish,  or  the  Celtic  dialects,  oi 
the  essay  on  Round  Towers,  with  trigonometry 
and  the  calculus,  whether  in  a lecture-room  or  a 
book. 


1^6  .LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

Let  us  just  set  down,  as  we  find  them,  some  of 
tlv*  Literary  and  Scientific  Institutions.  There 
are  the  Royal  Dublin  Society,  the  Royal  Irish 
Academy  (we  wish  these  royalties  were  dropped 
. — no  one  minds  them),  the  Irish  Archaeological 
Society,  the  Royal  Zoological  Society,  the  Geo- 
logical Society,  the  Dublin  Natural  History 
Society,  the  Dublin  Philosophical  Society,  the 
Royal  Agricultural  Society,  &c.,  &c.  Now,  we 
take  it  that  these  bodies  might  be  usefully  re- 
duced to  three,  and  if  three  moderate  govern- 
ment grants  were  made  under  conditions,  re- 
warding such  a classification,  we  doubt  not  it 
would  instantly  be  made. 

In  the  first  place,  we  would  divorce  from  the 
Irish  Academy  the  scientific  department,  requir- 
ing Trinity  College  to  form  some  voluntary 
organization  for  the  purpose.  To  this  non-col- 
legiate  philosophers  should  be  admitted,  and, 
thus  disencumbered,  we  would  devote  the  Aca- 
demy to  antiquities  and  literature — incorporate 
with  it  the  Archaeological  Society — transfer  to  it 
all  the  antiques  (of  which  it  had  not  duplicates 
in  Trinity  College,  the  Dublin  Society,  &c.,  and 
enlarge  its  tnuseum  and  meeting-room.  Its  sec- 
tion of  “ polite  literature”  haslong  been  a name — . 
it  should  be  made  real.  There  would  be  nothing 
inconvenient  or  strange  in  finding  in  its  lecture- 
rooms  or  transactions,  the  antiquities  and  litera- 
ture of  Ireland,  diversified  by  general,  historical, 
critical,  and  aesthetical  researches. 

The  Dublin  Society  would  reasonably  divide 
into  two  sections.  One,  for  the  promotion  of 
husbandry,  might  be  aggrandised  by  tempting 


INSTITUTIONS  OF  DUBLIN. 


197 


the  Agricultural  Society  to  join  it,  and  should 
have  a permanent  museum,  an  extensive  farm, 
premiums,  shows,  publications,  and  special  lec- 
turers. The  second  section,  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  manufactures,  should  have  its  museum, 
work-shops,  and  experiment  ground  (the  last, 
perhaps,  as  the  agricultural  farm),  and  its  special 
lecturers.  The  library  might  well  be  joint,  and 
managed  by  a joint  committee,  having  separate 
funds.  The  general  lecturers  on  chemistry  and 
other  such  subjects  might  be  paid  in  common. 
The  drawing-school  ( save  that  for  pattern  and 
machine  drawing)  might  be  transferred  to  the 
Art  Institution  ; and  the  botanic  garden  and 
museum  of  minerals  to  a third  body  we  propose. 

This  third  body  we  would  form  from  a union 
of  the  Zoological,  the  Geological,  the  Natural 
History  and  all  other  such  societies,  and  endow 
it  with  the  Botanic  and  Zoological  Gardens — 
give  it  rooms  for  a general,  and  for  a specially 
Irish  museum,  and  for  lecture  rooms  in  town, 
and  supply  it  with  a small  fund  to  pay  lecturers, 
who  should  go  through  the  provinces. 

We  are  firmly  convinced  that  this  re-arrange- 
ment of  the  Institutions  of  Dublin  is  quite  prac- 
ticable, would  diminish  unproductive  expenses, 
economise  the  time,  and  condense  the  purposes 
of  our  literary,  scientific,  and  artistical  men,  and 
increase  enormously  the  use  of  the  institutions 
to  the  public. 

Of  course  the  whole  plan  will  be  laughed  at  as 
fanciful  and  improbable ; we  think  it  and 

we  think  it  will  be  done. 


198  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAY*. 


IRELAND’S  PEOPLE,  LORDS,  GENTRY,  COM. 

MON  ALT  Y. 

VYhen  we  are  considering  a country’s  resources 
and  its  fitness  for  a peculiar  destiny,  its  people 
are  not  to  be  overlooked.  How  much  they  think, 
how  much  they  work,  what  are  their  passions,  as 
well  as  their  habits,  what  are  their  hopes  and 
what  their  history,  suggest  inquiries  as  well 
worth  envious  investigation  as  even  the  inside  of 
a refugee’s  letter. 

And  there  is  much  in  Ireland  of  that  character 
— much  that  makes  her  superior  to  slavery,  and 
much  that  renders  her  inferior  to  freedom. 

Her  inhabitants  are  composed  of  Irish  nobles, 
Irish  gentry,  and  the  Irish  people.  Each  has 
an  interest  in  the  independence  of  their  Country, 
each  a share  in  her  disgrace.  Upon  each,  too, 
there  devolves  a separate  duty  in  this  crisis  of 
her  fate.  They  all  have  responsibilities  ; but 
the  infamy  of  failing  in  them  is  not  alike  in  all. 

The  nobles  are  the  highest  class.  They  have 
most  to  guard.  In  every  other  country  they  are 
the  champions  of  patriotism.  They  feel  there  is 
no  honour  for  them  separate  from  their  father- 
land.  Its  freedom,  its  dignity,  its  integrity  are 
as  their  own.  They  strive  for  it,  legislate  for  it, 
guard  it,  fight  for  it.  Their  names,  their  titles, 
their  very  pride  are  of  it. 

In  Ireland  they  are  its  disgrace.  They  were 
first  to  sell  and  would  be  last  to  redeem  it^— 


Ireland’s  people. 


199 


Treachery  to  it  is  daubed  on  many  an  escutcheon 
in  its  heraldry.  It  is  the  only  na*tion  where 
slaves  have  been  ennobled  for  contributing  to  its 
degradation. 

It  is  a foul  thing  this — dignity  emanating 
from  the  throne  to  gild  the  filthy  mass  of  national 
treason  that  forms  the  man’s  part  of  many  an 
Irish  lord. 

We  do  not  include  in  this  the  whole  Irish 
peerage.  God  forbid.  There  are  several  of 
them  not  thus  ignoble.  Many  of  them  worked, 
struggled,  sacrificed  for  Ireland.  Many  of  them 
were  true  to  her  in  the  darkest  times. 

They  were  her  Chiefs,  h r ornaments,  her  sen- 
tinels, her  safeguards.  Alas,  that  they,  too, 
should  have  shrunk  from  their  position,  and  left 
their  duties  to  humbler,  but  bolder  and  better 
men. 

Look  at  their  station  in  the  State.  Is  it  not 
one  of  unequivocal  shame  ? They  enjoy  the 
half  mendicant  privilege  of  voting  for  a repre- 
sentative of  their  order,  in  the  House  of  Lords, 
some  twice  or  thrice  in  their  lives.  One  Irish 
peer  represents  about  a dozen  others  of  his  class, 
and  thus,  in  his  multiplex  capacity,  he  is  admitted 
into  fellowship  with  the  English  nobility.  The 
borrowed  plumes,  and  delegated  authority  of  so 
many  of  his  equals  raise  him  to  a half-admitted 
equality  with  an  English  nobleman.  And,  al-  ] 
though  thus  deprived  of  their  inheritance  of  dig-  | 
nity,  they  are  not  allowed  even  the  privilege  of 
a commoner.  An  Irish  lord  cannot  sit  in  the 
House  of  Commons  for  an  Irish  county  or  cityf 
nor  can  he  vote  for  an  Irish  member. 


200  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

But  an  Irish  lord  can  represent  an  English 
constituency.  The  distinction  is  a strange  one — . 
unintelligible  to  us  in  any  sense  but  one  of  na- 
tional humiliation.  We  understand  it  thus  : — < 
An  Irish  lord  is  too  mean  in  his  own  person,  and 
by  virtue  of  his  Irish  title,  to  rank  with  the 
British  peerage.  He  can  only  qualify  for  that 
honour  by  uniting  in  his  the  suffrages  and  titles 
of  ten  or  twelve  others.  But — flattering  dis- 
tinction ! — he  is  above  the  rank  of  an  Irish 
commoner,  nor  is  he  permitted  to  sully  his 
name  with  the  privileges  of  that  order.  And, 
unspeakable  dignity  ! he  may  take  his  stand  with 
a British  mob. 

There  is  no  pc  Mtion  to  match  this  in  shame. 
There  is  no  guilt  so  despicable  as  dozing  in  it 
without  a blush  or  an  effort,  or  even  a dream  for 
independence.  When  all  else  are  alive  to  indig- 
nity, and  working  in  the  way  of  honour  and 
liberty,  they  alone,  whom  it  would  best  become 
to  be  earliest  and  most  earnest  in  the  strife,  sink 
back  replete  with  dishonour. 

Of  those,  or  their  descendants,  who,  at  the 
time  of  the  Union,  sold  their  country  and  the 
high  places  they  filled  in  her  councils  and  in  her 
glory,  for  the  promise  of  a foreign  title,  which 
has  not  been  redeemed,  the  shame  and  the  morti- 
fication has  been,  perhaps,  too  great  to  admit  of 
any  hope  in  regard  to  them.  Their  trust  was 
sacred— their  honour  unsuspected.  The  stake 
they  guarded  above  life  they  betrayed  then  for  a 
false  bauble  ; and  it  is  no  wonder  if  they  think 
their  infamy  irredeemable,  and  eternal. 

We  know  not  but  it  is.  There  are  many, 


Ireland’s  people. 


201 


however,  not  in  that  category.  They  struggled 
at  fearful  odds,  and  every  risk,  against  the  fate 
of  their  country.  They  strove  when  hope  had 
left  them.  Wherefore  do  they  stand  apart  now, 
when  she  is  again  erect,  and  righteous,  and 
daring  ? Have  they  despaired  for  her  greatness, 
because  of  the  infidelity  of  those  to  whom  she 
had  too  blindly  trusted  ? 

The  time  is  gone  when  she  ^uld  be  betrayed. 
This  one  result  is  already  guaranteed  by  recent 
teaching.  We  may  not  be  yet  thoroughly  in- 
structed in  the  wisdom  and  the  virtue  necessary 
for  the  independent  maintenance  of  self-govern- 
ment ; but  we  have  mastered  thus  much  of 
national  knowledge  that  we  cannot  be  betrayed. 
There  is  no  assurance  ever  nation  gave  which 
we  have  not  given,  or  may  not  give,  that  our 
present  struggle  shall  end  in  triumph  or  in  na- 
tional death. 

The  writers  of  The  Nation  have  never  con- 
cealed the  defects  or  flattered  the  good  qualities 
of  their  countrymen.  They  have  told  them  in 
go6d  faith  that  they  wanted  many  an  attribute  of 
a free  people,  and  that  the  true  way  to  command 
happiness  and  liberty  was  by  learning  the  arts 
and  practising  the  culture  that  fitted  men  for 
their  enjoyment.  Nor  was  it  until  we  saw 
them  thus  learning  and  thus  practising,  that  our 
faith  became  perfect,  and  that  we  felt  entitled  to 
say  to  all  men,  here  is  a strife  in  which  it  will  be 
stainless  glory  to  be  even  defeated.  It  is  one  in 
which  the  Irish  nobility  have  the  first  interest 
and  the  first  stake  in  their  individual  capacities. 

As  they  would  be  the  most  honoured  and  bo- 


202  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ES9AY8* 

nefitted  by  national  success,  they  are  the  guiltiest 
in  opposing,  or  being  indifferent  to  national  pa- 
triotism. 

Of  the  Irish  gentry  there  is  not  much  to  be 
said.  They  are  divisible  into  two  classes — the 
one  consists  of  the  old  Norman  race  commingled 
with  the  Catholic  gentlemen,  who  either  have 
been  able  to  maintain  their  patrimonies,  or  who 
have  risen  into  affluence  by  their  own  industry ; 
the  other  the  descendants  of  Cromwell’s  or  Wil- 
liam’s successful  soldiery. 

This  last  is  the  most  anti-Irish  of  all.  They 
feel  no  personal  debasement  in  the  dishonour  of 
the  country.  Old  prejudices,  a barbarous  law, 
a sense  of  insecurity  in  the  possessions  they  know 
were  obtained  by  plunder,  combine  to  sink  them 
into  the  mischievous  and  unholy  belief  that  it  is 
their  interest  as  well  as  their  duty  to  degrade, 
and  wrong,  and  beggar  the  Irish  people. 

There  are  among  them  men  fired  by  enthu- 
siasm, men  fed  by  fanaticism,  men  influenced  by 
sordidness  ; but,  as  a whole,  they  are  earnest 
thinkers  and  stern  actors.  There  is  a virtue  in 
their  unscrupulousness.  They  speak,  and  act, 
and  dare  as  men.  There  is  a principle  in  their 
unprincipledness.  Their  belief  is  a harsh  and  tur- 
bulent one,  but  they  profess  it  in  a manly  fashion. 

We  like  them  better  than  the  other  section  of 
the  same  class.  These  last  are  but  sneaking 
echoes  of  the  other’s  views.  They  are  coward 
patriots  and  criminal  dandies.  But,  they  ought 
to  be  different  from  what  they  are.  We  wish 
them  so.  We  want  their  aid  now — for  thf 
country,  for  themselves,  for  all.  Would  that 


Ireland’s  people. 


203 


they  understood  the  truth,  that  they  thought 
/ustly,  and  acted  uprightly.  They  are  wanted, 
one  and  all.  Why  conceal  it — they  are  obstacles 
in  our  way,  shadows  on  our  path. 

These  are  called  the  representatives  of  the 
property  of  the  country.  They  are  against  the 
national  cause,  and,  therefore,  it  is  said  that  all 
the  wealth  of  Ireland  is  opposed  to  the  Repeal  of 
the  Union. 

It  is  an  ignorant  and  a false  boast. 

The  people  of  the  country  are  its  wealth. — . 
They  till  its  soil,  raise  its  produce,  ply  its  trade. 
They  serve,  sustain,  support,  save  it.  They 
supply  its  armies — they  are  its  farmers,  its  mer- 
chants, its  tradesmen,  its  artists,  all  that  enrich 
and  adorn  it. 

And  after  all,  each  of  them  has  a patrimony 
to  spend,  the  honourable  earning  of  his  sweat,  or 
his  intellect,  or  his  industry,  or  his  genius.— 
Taking  them  on  an  average,  they  must,  to  live, 
spend  at  least  £15  each  by  the  year.  Multiply 
it  by  seven  millions,  and  see  what  it  comes  to. 

Thirty-five  millions  annually — compare  with 
that  the  rental  of  Ireland  ; compare  with  it  tho 
wealth  of  the  aristocracy  spent  in  Ireland,  and 
are  they  not  as  nothing^5 

But  a more  important  comparison  may  be 
made  of  the  strength,  the  fortitude,  the  patience, 
the  bravery  of  those  the  enrichers  of  the  country, 
with  the  meanness  in  mind  and  courage  of  those 
who  are  opposed  to  them. 

It  is  the  last  we  shall  suggest.  It  is  sufficient 
for  our  purpose.  To  those  who  do  not  think  i} 
of  the  highest  value,  we  have  nothing  to  say. 


204  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


THE  STATE  OF  THE  PEASANTRY. 

In  a climate  soft  as  a mother’s  smile,  on  a soil 
fruitful  as  God’s  love,  the  Irish  peasant  mourns. 

He  is  not  unconsoled.  Faith  in  the  joys  of 
another  world,  heightened  by  his  woe  in  this, 
give  him  hours,  when  he  serenely  looks  down  on 
the  torments  that  encircle  him — the  moon  on  a 
troubled  sky.  Domestic  love,  almost  morbid 
from  external  suffering,  prevents  him  from  be- 
coming a fanatic  or  a misanthrope,  and  reconciles 
him  to  life.  Sometimes  he  forgets  all,  and  springs 
into  a desperate  glee  or  a scathing  anger  ; and 
latterly  another  feeling — the  hope  of  better  days 
— and  another  exertion — the  effort  for  redress — 
have  shared  his  soul  with  religion,  love,  mirth, 
and  vengeance. 

His  consolations  are  those  of  a spirit — his  mi- 
sery includes  all  physical  sufferings,  and  many 
that  strike  the  soul,  not  the  senses. 

Consider  his  griefs ! They  begin  in  the  cradle 
— they  end  in  the  grave. 

Suckled  by  a breast  that  is  supplied  from  un- 
wholesome or  insufficient  food,  and  that  is  fe- 
vered with  anxiety — reeking  with  the  smoke  of 
an  almost  chimneyless  cabin — assailed  by  wind 
and  rain  when  the  weather  rages — breathing, 
when  it  is  calm,  the  exhalations  of  a rotten  roof, 
of  clay  walls,  and  of  manure,  which  gives  hio 
only  chance  of  food — he  is  apt  to  perish  in  hia 
infancy. 


THE  STATE  OF  THE  PEASANTRY.  205 

Or  he  survives  all  this  (happy  if  he  have  es- 
caped from  gnawing  scrofula  or  familiar  fever), 
and,  in  the  same  cabin,  with  rags  instead  of  his 
mother’s  breast,  and  lumpers  instead  of  his  mo- 
ther’s milk,  he  spends  his  childhood. 

Advancing  youth  brings  him  labour,  and  man- 
hood increases  it ; but  youth  and  manhood  leave 
his  roof  rotten,  his  chimney  one  hole,  his  window 
another,  his  clothes  rags  (at  best  muffled  by  a 
holiday  cotumore) — his  furniture  a pot,  a table, 
a few  hay  chairs  and  rickety  stools — his  food 
lumpers  and  water — his  bedding  straw  and  a 
coverlid — his  enemies  the  landlord,  the  tax- 
gatherer,  and  the  law — his  consolation  the  priest 
and  his  wife — his  hope  on  earth,  agitation — his 
hope  hereafter,  the  Lord  God  ! 

For  such  an  existence  his  toil  is  hard — and 
so  much  the  better — it  calms  and  occupies  his 
mind  ; but  bitter  is  his  feeling  that  the  toil,  which 
gains  for  him  this  nauseous  and  scanty  livelihood, 
heaps  dainties  and  gay  wines  on  the  table  of  his 
distant  landlord,  clothes  his  children  or  his  harem 
in  satin,  lodges  them  in  marble  halls,  and  brings 
all  the  arts  of  luxury  to  solicit  their  senses — 
bitter  to  him  to  feel  that  this  green  land,  which 
he  loves  and  his  landlord  scorns,  is  ravished  by 
him  of  her  fruits  to  pamper  that  landlord  ; twice 
bitter  for  him  to  see  his  wife,  with  weariness  in 
her  breast  of  love,  to  see  half  his  little  brood 
torn  by  the  claws  of  want  to  undeserved  graves, 
hnd  to  know  that  to  those  who  survive  him  he 
can  only  leave  the  inheritance  to  which  he  was 
heir  ; and  thrice  bitter  to  him  that  even  his  hovel 
has  not  the  security  of  the  wild  beast’s  den — that 


LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

Squalidness,  and  Hunger,  and  Disease  are  insuK 
Bevent  guardians  of  his  home — and  that  the  puff 
of  the  landlord’s  or  the  agent’s  breath  may  blow 
him  off  the  land  where  he  has  lived.,  and  send 
him  and  hi3  to  a dyke,  or  to  prolong  wretched- 
ness in  some  desperate  kennel  in  the  next  town, 
till  the  strong  wings  of  Death — unopposed  lord 
of  such  suburbs — bear  them  away. 

Aristocracy  of  Ireland,  will  ye  do  nothing?— 
will  ye  do  nothing  for  fear?  The  body  who  best 
know  Ireland — the  body  that  keep  Ireland  within 
the  law — the  Repeal  Committee — declare  that 
unless  some  great  change  take  place,  an  agrarian 
war  may  ensue ! Do  ye  know  what  that  is,  and 
how  it  would  come  ? The  rapid  multiplication 
of  outrages,  increased  violence  by  Magistrates, 
collisions  between  the  People  and  the  Police,  co- 
ercive laws  and  military  force,  the  violation  of 
houses,  the  suspension  of  industry — the  conflux 
of  discontent,  pillage,  massacre,  war — the  gen- 
try shattered,  the  peasantry  conquered  and  de- 
cimated, or  victorious  and  ruined  (for  who  could 
rule  them) — there  is  an  agrarian  insurrection ! 
May  Heaven  guard  us  from  it! — may  the  fear 
be  vain! 

We  set  aside  the  fear!  Forget  it!  Think  of 
the  long,  long  patience  of  the  People — their 
toils  supporting  you — their  virtues  shaming  you 
— their  huts,  their  hunger,  their  disease. 

To  whomsoever  God  hath  given  a heart  less 
cold  than  stone,  these  truths  must  cry  day  and 
night.  Oh ! how  they  cross  us  like  Banshees 
when  we  would  range  free  on  the  mountain- 
how,  as  we  walk  in  the  evening  light  amid  flow- 


THE  STATE  OF  THE  PEASANTRY.  207 

ers,  they  startle  us  from  rest  of  mind ! Ye 
tiobles!  whose  houses  are  as  gorgeous  as  the 
mote’s  (who  dwelletli  in  the  sunbeam) — ye  strong 
and  haughty  squires — ye  dames  exuberant  with 
tingling  blood — ye  maidens,  whom  not  splendour 
has  yet  spoiled,  will  ye  not  think  of  the  poor? — 
will  ye  not  shudder  in  your  couches  to  think  how 
rain,  wind,  and  smoke  dwell  with  the  blanket- 
less peasant? — will  ye  not  turn  from  the  sump- 
tuous board  to  look  at  those  hard-won  meals  of 
black  and  slimy  roots  on  which  man,  woman, 
and  child  feed  year  after  year  ? — will  ye  never 
try  to  banish  wringing  hunger  and  ghastly  dis- 
ease from  the  home  of  such  piety  and  love? — 
will  ye  not  give  back  its  dance  to  the  village — 
its  mountain  play  to  boyhood — its  serene  hopes 
to  manhood  ? 

Will  ye  do  nothing  for  pity — nothing  for  love? 
Will  ye  leave  a foreign  Parliament  to  mitigate — 
will  ye  leave  a native  Parliament,  gained  in  your 
despite,  to  redress  these  miseries — will  ye  for 
ever  abdicate  the  duty  and  the  joy  of  making  the 
poor  comfortable,  and  the  peasant  attached  and 
happy  ? Do — if  so  you  prefer  ; but  know  that 
if  you  do,  you  are  a doomed  race.  Once  more, 
Aristocracy  of  Ireland,  we  warn  and  entreat  you 
to  consider  the  State  of  the  Peasantry,  and  tc 
save  them  with  your  own  hands. 


208  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS# 


HABITS  AND  CHARACTER  OF  THF 
PEASANTRY.* 

There  are  (thank  God!)  four  hundred  thousand 
Irish  children  in  the  National  Schools.  A few 
years,  and  they  will  be  the  People  of  Ireland— 
the  farmers  of  its  lands,  the  conductors  of  its 
traffic,  the  adepts  in  its  arts.  How  utterly  unlike 
that  Ireland  will  be  to  the  Ireland  of  the  Penal 
Laws,  of  the  Volunteers,  of  the  Union,  or  of 
the  Emancipation? 

Well  may  Carleton  say  that  we  are  in  a transi- 
tion state.  The  knowledge,  the  customs,  the  su- 
perstitions, the  hopes  of  the  People  are  entirely 
changing.  There  is  neither  use  nor  reason  in 
lamenting  what  we  must  infallibly  lose.  Our 
course  is  an  open  and  a great  one,  and  will  try  us 
severely;  but,  be  it  well  or  ill,  we  cannot  resem- 
ble our  fathers.  No  conceivable  effort  will  get 
the  people,  twenty  years  hence,  to  regard  the 
Fairies  but  as  a beautiful  fiction  to  be' cherished, 
not  believed  in,  and  not  a few  real  and  human 
characters  are  perishing  as  fast  as  the  Fairies. 

Let  us  be  content  to  have  the  past  chronicled 
wherever  it  cannot  be  preserved. 

Much  may  be  saved — the  Gaelic  language  and 
the  music  of  the  past  may  be  handed  uncor- 
rupted to  the  future ; but  whatever  may  be  the 

* “ Tales  and  Sketches  illustrating  the  Irish  Peasan- 
try.” By  William  Carleton.  James  Daffy,  Dublin# 
1845 ; 1 vol.  8vo,  pp.  393. 


HABITS,  &C.,  OF  THE  PEASANTRY.  20^ 

substitutes,  the  Fairies  and  the  Banshees,  the 
Poor  Scholar  and  the  Ribbonman,  the  Orange 
Lodge,  the  Illicit  Still,  and  the  Faction  Fight, 
arc  vanishing  into  history,  and  unless  this  gene- 
ration paints  them  no  other  will  know  what  they 
were. 

It  is  chiefly  in  this  way  we  value  the  work 
before  us.  In  it  Carleton  is  the  historian  of  the 
peasantry  rather  than  a dramatist.  The  fiddler 
and  piper,  the  seanachie  and  seer,  the  match- 
maker and  dancing-master,  and  a hundred  cha- 
racters beside  are  here  brought  before  you, 
moving,  acting,  playing,  plotting,  and  gossip- 
ing ! You  are  never  wearied  by  an  inventory  of 
wardrobes,  as  in  short  English  descriptive  fic- 
tions ; yet  you  see  how  every  one  is  dressed ; 
you  hear  the  honey  brogue  of  the  maiden,  and 
the  downy  voice  of  the  child,  the  managed  ac- 
cents of  flattery  or  traffic,  the  shrill  tones  of 
woman’s  fretting,  and  the  t roubled  gush  of  man’s 
anger.  The  moory  upland  and  the  corn  slopes, 
the  glen  where  the  rocks  jut  through  mantling 
heather,  and  bright  brooks  gurgle  amid  the 
scented  banks  of  wild  herbs,  the  shivering  cabin 
and  the  rudely-lighted  farm-house  are  as  plain  in 
Carleton’s  pages  as  if  he  used  canvass  and  colours 
with  a skill  varying  from  Wilson  and  Poussin, 
to  Teniers  and  Wilkie. 

But  even  in  these  sketches,  his  power  of  ex- 
ternal description  is  not  his  greatest  merit.  Born 
and  bred  among  the  people — full  of  their  animal 
vehemence — skilled  in  their  sports — as  credulous 
and  headlong  in  boyhood,  and  as  fitful  and  varied 
in  manhood,  as  the  wildest — he  had  felt  with 


£10  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


them  and  must  ever  sympathise  with  them.  En- 
dowed with  the  highest  dramatic  genius,  he  has 
represented  their  love  and  generosity,  their 
wrath  and  negligence,  their  crimes  and  virtues, 
as  a hearty  peasant — not  a note-taking  critic. 

In  others  of  his  works  he  has  created  ideal 
characters  that  give  him  a higher  rank  as  a poet 
(some  of  them  not  surpassed  by  even  Shakspeare 
for  originality,  grandeur,  and  distinctness)  ; but 
here  he  is  a genuine  Seanachie,  and  brings  you  to 
dance  and  wake,  to  wedding  and  christening- 
makes  you  romp  with  the  girls,  and  race  with 
the  boys — tremble  at  the  ghosts,  and  frolic  with 
the  fairies  of  the  whole  parish. 

Come  what  change  there  may  over  Ireland,  in 
these  “ Tales  and  Sketches”  the  peasantry  of  the 
past  hundred  years  can  be  for  ever  lived  with. 


IRISH  SCENERY. 

We  no  more  see  why  Irish  people  should  not 
visit  the  Continent,  than  why  Germans  or 
Frenchmen  ought  not  to  visit  Ireland  ; but  there 
is  a difference  between  them.  A German  rarely 
comes  here  who  has  not  trampled  the  heath  of 
Tyrol,  studied  the  museums  of  Dresden  and  the 
frescoes  of  Munich,  and  shouted  defiance  on  the 
bank  of  the  Rhine  ; and  what  Frenchman  who 
has  not  seen  the  vineyards  of  Provence  and  the 
Bocages  of  Brittany,  and  the  snows  of  J ura  and 


IRISH  SCENERY. 


21  1 

the  Pyrenees,  ever  drove  on  an  Irish  jingle? 
But  our  nobles  and  country  gentlemen,  our  mer- 
chants, lawyers,  and  doctors — and  what’s  worse, 
their  wives  and  daughters — penetrate  Britain 
and  the  Continent  without  ever  trying  whether 
they  could  not  defy  in  Ireland  the  ennui  before 
which  they  run  over  seas  and  mountains. 

The  cause  of  this,  as  of  most  of  our  grievances, 
was  misgovernment,  producing  poverty,  discom- 
fort, ignorance,  and  misrepresentation.  The 
people  were  ignorant  and  in  rags,  their  houses 
miserable,  the  roads  and  hotels  shocking ; we 
had  no  banks,  few  coaches,  and,  to  crown  all, 
the  English  declared  the  people  to  be  rude  and 
turbulent,  which  they  were  not,  as  well  as 
drunken  and  poor,  which  they  assuredly  were. 
An  Irish  landlord,  who  had  ill-treated  his  own 
tenants,  felt  a conscientious  dread  of  all  frieze- 
coats,  others  adopted  his  prejudices,  and  a peo- 
ple, who  never  were  rude  or  unjust  to  strangers, 
were  considered  unsafe  to  travel  amongst. 

Most  of  these  causes  are  removed.  The  people 
are  sober,  and  are  rapidly  advancing  to  know- 
ledge, their  political  exertions  and  dignity  have 
broken  away  much  of  the  prejudices  against 
them,  and  a man  passing  through  any  part  of 
Ireland  expects  to  find  woful  poverty  and  strong 
discontent,  but  he  does  not  fear  the  abduction  of 
his  wife,  or  attempts  to  assassinate  him  on  every 
lonely  road.  The  coaches,  cars,  and  roads,  too, 
have  become  excellent,  and  the  hotels  are  suffi- 
cient for  any  reasonable  traveller.  One  very 
marked  discouragement  to  travelling  was  the 
want  of  information  ; the  mans  were  little  daubs, 


212  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAY'S. 


and  the  guide-books  were  few  and  inaccurate.  As 
to  maps  we  are  now  splendidly  off.  The  Rail- 
way Commissioners’  Map  of  Ireland,  aided  by 
the  Ordnance  Index  Map  of  any  county  where 
a visiter  makes  a long  stay,  are  ample.  We 
have  got  a good  general  guide-book  in  Fraser, 
but  it  could  not  hold  a twentieth  of  the  in- 
formation necessary  to  a leisurely  tourist ; nor, 
till  the  Ordnance  Memoir  is  out  shall  we  have 
thorough  hand-books  to  our  counties.  Meantime 
let  us  not  burn  the  little  guides  to  Antrim,  Wick- 
low, and  Killarney,  though  they  are  desperately 
dull  and  inexact — let  us  not  altogether  prohibit 
Mrs.  Hall’s  gossip,  though  she  knows  less  about 
our  Celtic  people  than  of  the  Malays ; and  let 
us  be  even  thankful  for  Mr.  O’Flanagan’s  vo- 
lume on  the  Munster  Blackwater  (though  it  is 
printed  in  London),  for  his  valuable  stories,  for 
his  minute,  picturesque,  and  full  topography, 
for  his  antiquarian  and  historical  details,  though 
he  blunders  into  making  Alaster  M4Donnell  a 
Scotchman,  and  for  his  hearty  love  of  the 
scenery  and  people  he  has  undertaken  to  guide 
us  through. 

And  now,  reader,  in  this  fine  soft  summer, 
when  the  heather  is  blooming,  and  the  sky 
laughing  and  crying  like  a hysterical  bride,  full 
ol  love,  where  will  you  go — through  your  own 
land  or  a stranger’s  ? If  you  stay  at  home  you 
can  choose  your  own  scenery,  and  have  some- 
thing to  see  in  the  summer,  and  talk  of  in  the 
winter,  that  will  make  your  friends  from  the 
Alps  and  Appenines  respectful  to  you. 

Did  you  propose  to  study  economies  among 


IRISH  SCENERY. 


213 


the  metayers  of  Tuscany  or  the  artisans  of  Bel- 
gium, postpone  the  trip  till  the  summer  of  ’45  or 
’46,  when  you  may  have  the  passport  of  an  Irish 
office  to  get  you  a welcome,  and  seek  for  the 
state  of  the  linen  weavers  in  the  soft  hamlets  of 
Ulster — compare  the  cattle  herds  of  Meath  with 
the  safe  little  holdings  of  Down,  and  the  well* 
fought  farms  of  Tipperary,  or  investigate  the 
statistics  of  our  fisheries  along  the  rivers  and 
lakes  and  shores  of  our  island. 

Had  a strong  desire  come  upon  you  to  toil  over 
the  glacier,  whose  centre  froze  when  Adam 
courted  Eve,  or  walk  amid  the  brigand  passes  of 
Italy  or  Spain — do  not  fancy  that  absolute  size 
makes  mountain  grandeur,  or  romance,  to  a 
mind  full  of  passion  and  love  of  strength  (and 
with  such  only  do  the  mountain  spirits  walk)  the 
passes  of  Glenmalure  and  Barnesmore  are  deep 
as  Chamouni,  and  CarnTual  and  Slieve  Donard 
are  as  near  the  lightning  as  Mount  Blanc. 

To  the  picture-hunter  we  can  offer  little, 
though  Vandyke’s  finest  portrait  is  in  Kilkenny, 
and  there  is  no  county  without  some  collection  ; 
but  for  the  lover  of  living  or  sculptured  forms— 
for  the  artist,  the  antiquarian,  and  the  natural 
philosopher,  we  have  more  than  five  summers 
could  exhaust.  Every  one  can  see  the  strength 
of  outline,  the  vigour  of  colour,  and  the  effec- 
tive grouping  in  every  fair,  and  wake,  and  cha- 
pel, and  hurling-ground,  from  Donegal  to  Wa- 
Jerford,  though  it  may  take  the  pen  of  Griffin  or 
the  pencil  of  Burton  to  represent  them.  An 
Irishman,  if  he  took  the  pains,  would  surely  find 
rOmething  not  inferior  in  interest  to  Cologne . ox 


214  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

the  Alhambra  in  a study  of  the  monumental 
effigies  which  mat  the  floors  of  Jerpoint  and 
Adare,  or  the  cross  in  a hundred  consecrated 
grounds,  from  Kells  to  Clonmacnoise — of  the 
round  towers  which  spring  in  every  barony — or 
the  architectural  perfection  of  Holycross  and 
Clare- Galway,  and  the  strange  fellowship  of 
every  order  in  Athassel,  or  of  the  military  keeps; 
and  earthen  pyramids,  and  cairns,  which  tell  of 
the  wars  of  recent,  and  the  piety  of  distant  cen- 
turies. The  Entomology,  Botany,  and  Geology 
of  Ireland  are  not  half  explored  ; the  structure 
and  distinctions  of  its  races  are  but  just  attract- 
ing the  eyes  of  philosophers  from  Mr.  Wylde’s 
tract,  and  the  country  is  actually  full  of  airs 
never  noted,  history  never  written,  superstitions 
and  romances  never  rescued  from  tradition  ; and 
why  should  Irishmen  go  blundering  in  foreign 
researches  when  so  much  remains  to  be  done 
here,  and  when  to  do  it  would  be  more  easy, 
more  honourable,  and  more  useful? 

In  many  kinds  of  scenery  we  can  challenge 
comparison.  Europe  has  no  lake  so  dreamily 
beautiful  as  Killarney  ; no  bays  where  the  bold- 
ness of  Norway  unites  with  the  colouring  of  Na- 
ples, as  in  Bantry ; and  you  might  coast  the 
world  without  finding  cliffs  so  vast  and  so  terri- 
ble as  Achill  and  Slieve  League.  Glorious,  too, 
as  the 'Rhine  is,  we  doubt  if  its  warmest  admirers 
^rould  exclude  from  rivalry  the  Nore  and  the 
Blaekwater,  if  they  had  seen  the  tall  cliffs,  and 
tie  twisted  slopes,  and  the  ruined  aisles,  and 
glancing  mountains,  and  feudal  castles  through 
rvhich  you  boat  up  from  Youghal  to  Mallow,  OJ 


IRISH  SCENERY. 


215 


glide  down  from  Thomastown  to  Waterford  har- 
bour. Hear  what  Inglis  says  of  this  Avondhu  : — * 

“ We  have  had  descents  of  the  Danube,  and  descents 
of  the  Rhine,  and  the  Rhone,  and  of  nrany  other  rivers; 
but  we  have  not  in  print,  as  far  as  I know,  any  descent 
of  the  Blackwater ; and  yet,  with  all  these  descents  of 
foreign  rivers  in  my  recollection,  I think  the  descent  of 
the  Blackwater  not  surpassed  by  any  of  them . A detail 
of  all  that  is  seen  in  gliding  down  the  Blackwater  from 
Cappoquin  to  Youghal  would  fill  a long  chapter.  There 
is  every  combination  that  can  be  produced  by  the  ele- 
ments that  enter  into  the  picturesque  and  the  beauti- 
ful— deep  shades,  bold  rocks,  verdant  slopes,  with  the 
triumphs  of  art  superadded,  and  made  visible  in  magni- 
ficent houses  and  beautiful  villas,  with  their  decorated 
lawns  and  pleasure-grounds.” 

And  now,  reader,  if  these  kaleidoscope  glimpses 
we  have  given  you  have  made  you  doubt  between 
a summer  in  Ireland  and  one  abroad,  give  your 
country  “ the  benefit  of  the  doubt,”  as  the  law- 
yers say,  and  boat  on  our  lake  or  dive  into  our 
glens  and  ruins,  wonder  at  the  basalt  coast  of 
Antrim,  and  soften  your  heart  between  the  banka 
of  the  Blackwater, 


218  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


IRISH  MUSIC  AND  POETRY, 

No  enemy  speaks  slightingly  of  Irish  Music,  and 
no  friend  need  fear  to  boast  of  it.  It  is  without 
a rival. 

Its  antique  war-tunes,  such  as  those  of  O’Byrne, 
O’Donnell,  Alestrom,  and  Brian  Boru,  stream  and 
crash  upon  the  ear  like  the  warriors  of  a hundred 
glens  meeting ; and  you  are  borne  with  them  to 
battle,  and  they  and  you  charge  and  struggle  amid 
cries  and  battle-axes  and  stinging  arrows.  Did 
ever  a wail  make  man’s  marrow  quiver,  and  fill 
his  nostrils  with  the  breath  of  the  grave  like  the 
ululu  of  the  north  or  the  wdrrasthrue  of  Munster? 
Stately  are  their  slow,  and  recklessly  splendid 
their  quick  marches,  their  “ Boyne  Water,”  and 
Sios  agus  sios  liom,”  their  “ Michael  Hoy,”  and 
“ Gallant  Tipperary.”  The  Irish  jigs  and  planx- 
ties  are  not  only  the  best  dancing  tunes,  but  the 
finest  quick  marches  in  the  world.  Some  of  them 
would  cure  a paralytic,  and  make  the  marble- 
legged prince  in  the  Arabian  Nights  charge  like  a 
Fag-an-Bealach  boy.  The  hunter  joins  in  every 
leap  and  yelp  of  the  “ Fox  Chase  the  historian 
hears  the  moan  of  the  penal  days  in  “ Drimindhu,” 
and  sees  the  embarkation  of  the  Wild  Geese  in 
“ Limerick  Lamentation  ; ” and  ask  the  lover  if 
his  breath  do  not  come  and  go,  with  “ Savourneen 
Deelish  ” and  “ Lough  Sheelin.” 

Varied  and  noble  as  our  music  is,  the  English- 


IRISH  MUSIC  AND  POETRY.  217 

speaking  people  in  Ireland  have  been  gradually 
losing  their  knowledge  of  it,  and  a number  of 
foreign  tunes — paltry  scented  things  from  Italy, 
lively  trifles  from  Scotland,  and  German  opera 
cries — are  heard  in  our  concerts,  and  what  is 
worse,  from  our  Temperance  bands.  Yet  we 
never  doubted  that  “ The  Sight  Entrancing/'  or 
“ The  Memory  of  the  Dead,”  would  satisfy  even 
the  most  spoiled  of  our  fashionables  better  than 
anything  Balfe  or  Rossini  ever  wrote  ; and,  as  it 
is,  “ Tow-row-row  ” is  better  than  poteen  to  the 
teetotalers,  wearied  with  overtures  and  insulted 
by  “ British  Grenadiers  ” and  “ Rule  Britan nia.” 

A reprint  of  Moore's  Melodies  on  lower  keys, 
and  at  much  lower  prices,  would  probably  restore 
the  sentimental  music  of  Ireland  to  its  natural 
supremacy.  There  are  in  Bunting  but  two  good 
sets  of  words — “ The  Bonny  Cuckoo,”  and  poor 
Campbell’s  “ Exile  of  Erin.”  These  and  a few 
of  Lover’s  and  Mahony’s  songs  can  alone  compete 
with  Moore.  But,  save  one  or  two  by  Lysaght 
and  Drennan,  almost  all  the  Irish  political  songs 
are  too  desponding  or  weak  to  content  a people 
marching  to  independence  as  proudly  as  if  they 
had  never  been  slaves. 

The  popularity  and  immense  circulation  of  the 
Spirit  of  the  Nation  proved  that  it  represented 
the  hopes  and  passions  of  the  Irish  people.  This 
looks  like  vanity;  but  as  a corporation  so  numerous 
as  the  contributors  to  that  volume  cannot  blush, 
we  shall  say  our  say.  For  instance,  who  did  not 
admire  “ The  Memory  of  the  Dead  ? ” The  very 
Stamp  officers  were  galvanised  by  it,  and  the 
Attorney- General  was  repeatedly  urged  to  sing 


218  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

it,  for  the  jury.  He  refused — he  had  no  music  to 
sing  it  to.  We  pitied  and  forgave  him  ; but  we 
vowed  to  leave  him  no  such  excuse  next  time. 
If  these  songs  were  half  so  good  as  people  called 
them,  they  deserved  to  flow  from  a million  throats 
to  as  noble  music  as  ever  O’Neill  or  O’Connor 
heard. 

Some  of  them  were  written  to,  and  some  freely 
combined  with,  old  and  suitable  airs.  These  we 
resolved  to  have  printed  with  the  music,  certain 
that,  thus,  the  music  would  be  given  back  to  a 
people  who  had  been  ungratefully  neglecting  it, 
and  the  words  carried  into  circles  where  they 
were  still  unknown. 

Others  of  these  poems,  indeed  the  best  of  them, 
had  no  ante-types  in  our  ancient  music.  New 
music  was,  therefore,  to  be  sought  for  them.  Not 
on  their  account  only  was  it  to  be  sought.  We 
hoped  they  would  be  the  means  of  calling  out  and 
making  known  a cotemporary  music  fresh  with 
the  spirit  of  the  time,  and  rooted  in  the  country. 

Since  Cardan’s  death  there  had  been  no  ad- 
dition to  the  store.  Not  that  we  were  without 
composers,  but  those  we  have  do  not  compose 
Irish-like  music,  nor  for  Ireland.  Their  rewards 
are  from  a foreign  public— their  fame,  we  fear, 
will  suffer  from  alienage.  Ealfe  is  very  sweet, 
and  Rooke  very  emphatic,  but  not  one  passion  or 
association  in  Ireland’s  heart  would  answer  to 
their  songs. 

Fortunately  there  was  one  among  us  (perchance 
his  example  may  light  us  toothers)  who  can  smite 
upon  our  harp  like  a master,  and  make  it  sigh 
with  Irish  memories,  and  speak  sternly  with 


IRISH  MUSIC  AND  POETRY. 


219 


Ireland’s  resolve.  To  him,  to  his  patriotism,  to 
his  genius,  and,  we  may  selfishly  add,  to  his  friend- 
ship, we  owe  our  ability  now  to  give  to  Ireland 
music  fit  for  “ The  Memory  of  the  Dead  ” and 
“ The  Hymn  of  Freedom,”  and  whatever  else  was 
marked  out  by  popularity  for  such  care  as  his. 

In  former  editions  of  the  Spirit  we  had  thrown 
in  carelessly  several  inferior  verses  and  some 
positive  trash,  and  neither  paper  nor  printing 
vere  any  great  honor  to  the  Dublin  press.  Every 
improvement  in  the  power  of  the  most  enterprising 
publisher  in  Ireland  has  been  made,  and  every 
fault,  within  our  reach  or  his,  cured — and  whether 
as  the  first  publication  of  original  airs,  as  a 
selection  of  ancient  music,  or  as  a specimen  of 
what  the  Dublin  press  can  do,  in  printing,  paper, 
~r  cheapness,  we  urge  the  public  to  support  this 
work  of  Mr.  James  Duffy’s — and,  in  a pecuniary 
way,  it  is  his  altogether. 

We  had  hoped  to  have  added  a recommendation 
to  the  first  number  of  this  work,  besides  whatever 
attraction  may  lie  in  its  music,  its  ballads,  or  its 
mechanical  beauty. 

An  artist,  whom  we  shall  not  describe  or  he 
would  be  known,  sketched  a cover  and  title  for  it. 
The  idea,  composition,  and  drawing  of  that  design, 
were  such  as  Flaxman  might  have  been  proud  of. 
It  is  a monument  to  bardic  power,  to  patriotism,  to 
^ur  music  and  our  history.  There  is  at  least  as  much 
poetry  in  it  as  in  the  best  verses  in  the  work  it 
illustrates.  If  it  do  nothing  else,  it  will  show  our 
Irish  artists  thzt  refinement  and  strength,  passion 
and  dignity,  are  as  practicable  in  Irish  as  in  Ger- 
man painting ; and  the  lesson  was  needed  sorely* 


220  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

But  if  it  lead  him  who  drew  it  to  see  that  our 
history  and  hopes  present  fit  forms  to  embody  the 
highest  feelings  of  beauty,  wisdom,  truth,  and 
glory  in,  irrespective  of  party  politics,  then,  indeed,  . 
we  shall  have  served  our  country  when  we  induced 
our  gifted  friend  to  condescend  to  sketching  “a 
title-page.”  We  need  not  describe  that  design 
now,  as  it  will  appear  on  the  cover  of  the  second 
number,  and  on  the  title-page  of  the  finished 
volumo. 


BALLAD  POETRY  OF  IRELAND. 

How  slow  we  have  all  been  in  coming  to  under- 
stand the  meaning  of  Irish  Nationality  ! 

Some,  dazzled  by  visions  of  Pagan  splendour, 
and  the  pretensions  of  pedigree,  and  won  by  the 
passions  and  romance  of  the  olden  races,  conti- 
nued to  speak  in  the  nineteenth  century  of  an 
Irish  nation  as  they  might  have  done  in  the 
tenth.  They  forgot  the  English  Pale,  the  Ulster 
Settlement,  and  the  filtered  colonization  of  men 
and  ideas.  A Celtic  kingdom  with  the  old  names 
and  the  old  language,  without  the  old  quarrels, 
was  their  hope ; and,  though  they  would  not  re- 
peat O’Neill’s  comment,  as  he  passed  Barrett’s 
castle  on  his  march  to  Kinsale,  and  heard  it 
belonged  to  a Strongbownian,  that  “ he  hated 
the  Norman  churl  as  if  he  came  yesterday yet 
they  quietly  assumed  that  the  Norman  and  Saxon 
elements  would  disappear  under  the  Gaelic  ge- 


BALLAD  POETRY  OF  IRELAND. 


221 


nius,  like  the  tracks  of  cavalry  under  a fresh 
crop. 

The  Nationality  of  Swift  and  Grattan  wal 
equally  partial.  They  saw  that  the  Government 
and  laws  of  the  settlers  had  extended  to  the 
island — that  Donegal  and  Kerry  were  in  the 
Pale ; they  heard  the  English  tongue  in  Dublin, 
and  London  opinions  in  Dublin — they  mistook 
Ireland  for  a colony  wronged,  and  great  enough 
to  be  a nation. 

A lower  form  of  nationhood  was  before  the 
minds  of  those  who  saw  in  it  nothing  but  a par- 
liament in  College  Green.  They  had  not  erred 
in  judging,  for  they  had  not  tried  to  estimate  the 
moral  elements  and  tendencies  of  the  country. 
They  were  as  narrow  bigots  to  the  omnipotency 
of  an  institution  as  any  Cockney  Radical.  Could 
they,  by  any  accumulation  of  English  stupidity 
and  Irish  laziness,  have  got  possession  of  an 
Irish  government,  they  would  soon  have  dis- 
tressed every  one  by  their  laws,  whom  they  had 
not  provoked  by  their  administration,  or  disgusted 
by  their  dulness. 

Far  healthier  with  all  its  defects,  was  the  idea 
(T  those  who  saw  in  Scotland  a perfect  model — 
who  longed  for  a literary  and  artistic  nationality 
—who  prized  the  oratory  of  Grattan  and  Curran, 
the  novels  of  Griffin  and  Carleton,  the  pictures 
of  Maclise  and  Burton,  the  ancient  music,  as 
much  as  any,  and  far  more  than  most  of  the  po- 
litical nationalists,  but  who  regarded  political 
independence  as  a dangerous  dream.  Unknow- 
ingly they  fostered  it.  Their  writings,  their 
sitronage,  their  talk  was  of  Ireland  ; yet  it  harder 


222  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAY8. 


:>ccurred  to  them  that  the  ideal  would  flow  into 
the  practical,  or  that  they,  with  their  dread  of 
agitation,  were  forwarding  a revolution. 

At  last  we  are  beginning  to  see  what  we  are, 
and  what  is  our  destiny.  Our  duty  arises  where 
our  knowledge  begins.  The  elements  of  Irish 
nationality  are  not  only  combining — in  fact,  thej 
are  growing  confluent  in  our  minds.  Such  na- 
tionality as  merits  a good  man’s  help,  and  wakens 
a true  man’s  ambition — such  nationality  as  could 
stand  against  internal  faction  and  foreign  in- 
trigue, such  nationality,  as  would  make  the  Irish 
hearth  happy  and  the  Irish  name  illustrious,  is 
becoming  understood.  It  must  contain  and  re- 
present the  races  of  Ireland.  It  must  not  be 
Celtic,  it  must  not  be  Saxon — it  must  be  Irish. 
The  Brehon  law,  and  the  maxims  of  Westminster, 
the  cloudy  and  lightning  genius  of  the  Gael,  the 
placid  strength  of  the  Sasanach,  the  marshalling 
insight  of  the  Norman — a literature  which  shall 
exhibit  in  combination  the  passions  and  idioms 
of  all,  and  which  shall  equally  express  our  mind 
in  its  romantic,  its  religious,  its  forensic,  and  its 
practical  tendencies — finally,  a native  govern- 
ment, which  shall  know  and  rule  by  the  might 
and  right  of  all ; yet  yield  to  the  arrogance  of 
Tione — these  are  components  of  such  a nationality 

But  what  have  these  things  to  do  with  the 
“ Ballad  Poetry  of  Ireland  ?”  Much  every  way. 
It  is  the  result  of  the  elements  we  have  named — 
it  is  compounded  of  all ; and  never  was  there  a 
book  fitter  to  advance  that  perfect  nationality  to 
which  Ireland  begins  to  aspire.  That  a country 
m without  national  poetry  proves  its  hopeless 


BALLAD  POETRY  OF  IRELAND.  223 

dulness  or  its  utter  provincialism.  National 
poetry  is  the  very  flowering  of  the  soul — the 
greatest  evidence  of  its  health,  the  greatest  ex- 
cellence of  its  beauty.  Its  melody  is  balsam  to 
the  senses.  It  is  the  playfellow  of  childhood, 
ripens  into  the  companion  of  his  manhood,  con- 
soles his  age.  It  presents  the  most  dramatic 
events,  the  largest  characters,  the  most  impres- 
sive scenes,  and  the  deepest  passions  in  the 
language  most  familiar  to  us.  It  shows  us 
magnified,  and  ennobles  our  hearts,  our  intellects, 
our  country,  and  our  countrymen — binds  11s  to 
the  land  by  its  condensed  and  gem-like  history, 
to  the  future  by  examples  and  by  aspirations.  It 
solaces  us  in  travel,  fires  us  in  action,  prompts 
our  invention,  sheds  a grace  beyond  the  power  of 
luxury  round  our  homes,  is  the  recognised  envoy 
of  our  minds  among  all  mankind  and  to  all  time. 

In  possessing  the  powers  and  elements  of  a 
glorious  nationality,  we  owned  the  sources  of  a 
national  poetry.  In  the  combination  and  joint 
development  of  the  latter,  we  find  a pledge  and  a 
help  to  that  of  the  former. 

This  book  of  Mr.  Duffy’s,*  true  as  it  is  to  the 
wants  of  the  time,  is  not  fortuitous.  He  has 
prefaced  his  admirable  collection  by  an  Intro- 
duction, which  proves  his  full  consciousness  of 
the  worth  of  his  task,  and  proves  equally  his 
ability  to  execute  it.  In  a space  too  short  for  | 
the  most  impatient  to  run  by  he  has  accurately 
investigated  the  sources  of  Irish  Ballad  Poetry, 
vividly  defined  the  qualities  of  each,  and  laboured 
with  perfect  success  to  show  that,  all  naturally 

1 ‘Ballad  Poetry  of  Ireland” — Library  of  Ireland,  Ne  II, 


824  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

combine  towards  one  great  end,  as  the  brooks  to 
a river,  which  marches  on  clear,  deep,  and  single, 
though  they  be  wild,  and  shallow,  and  turbid, 
flowing  from  unlike  regions,  and  meeting  after 
countless  windings. 

Mr.  Duffy  maps  out  three  main  forces  which 
unequally  contribute  to  an  Irish  Ballad  Poetry. 

The  first  consists  of  the  Gaelic  ballads.  True 
to  the  vehemence  and  tendencies  of  the  Celtic 
people,  and  representing  equally  their  vagueness 
and  extravagance  during  slavish  times,  they,  ne- 
vertheless, remain  locked  from  the  middle  and 
upper  classes  generally,  and  from  the  peasantry 
of  more  than  half  Ireland,  in  an  unknown  lan- 
guage. Many  of  them  have  been  translated  by 
rhymers — few,  indeed,  by  poets.  The  editor  of 
the  volume  before  us,  has  brought  into  one  house 
nearly  all  the  poetical  translations  from  the  Irish, 
and  thus  finely  justifies  the  ballad  literature  of 
the  Gael  from  its  calumnious  friend: — 

“ With  a few  exceptions,  all  the  translations  we  are 
acquainted  with,  in  addition  to  having  abundance  of 
minor  faults,  are  eminently  un-Irish.  They  seem  to 
have  been  made  by  persons  to  whom  one  of  the  languages 
was  not  familiar.  Many  of  them  were  confessedly  ver- 
sified from  prose  translations,  and  are  mere  English 
poems,  without  a tinge  of  the  colour  or  character  of  the 
country.  Others,  translated  by  sound  Irish  scholars, 
are  bald  and  literal;  the  writers  sometimes  wanting  a 
facility  of  versification,  sometimes  a mastery  over  the 
English  language.  The  Irish  scholars  of  the  last  century 
were  too  exclusively  national  to  study  the  foreign  tongue 
with  the  care  essential  to  master  its  metrical  resources ; 
and  the  flexible  and  weighty  language  which  they  be;* 
Hot  learned  to  wield  hung  heavily  on  them, 

‘ Like  Saul’s  plate  armour  on  the  shepherd  boy 
Encumbering,  and  r*ot  arming  them.’ 


BALLAD  POETRY  OF  IRELAND,  225 

If  it  were  just  to  estimate  our  bardic  poetry  by  the  spe. 
cimens  we  have  received  in  this  manner,  it  could  not  bl 
rated  highly.  But  it  would  manifestly  be  most  unjust. 
Noble  and  touching,  and  often  subtle  and  profound 
thoughts,  which  no  translation  could  entirely  spoil,  shine 
through  the  poverty  of  the  style,  and  vindicate  the  cha- 
racter of  the  originals.  Like  the  costly  arms  and  orna- 
ments found  in  our  bogs,  they  are  substantial  witnesses 
of  a distinct  civilization ; and  their  credit  is  no  more 
diminished  by  the  rubbish  in  which  they  chance  to  be 
found  than  the  authenticity  of  the  ancient  torques  and 
skians  by  their  embedment  in  the  mud.  When  the 
entire  collection  of  our  Irish  Percy — James  Hardiman — 
shall  have  been  given  to  a public  (and  soon  may  such  a 
one  come)  that  can  relish  them  in  their  native  dress,  they 
will  be  entitled  to  undisputed  precedence  in  our  national 
minstrelsy.” 

About  a dozen  of  the  ballads  in  the  volume,  are 
derived  translated  from  the  Irish.  It  is  only  in 
this  way  that  Clarence  Mangan  (a  name  to  which 
Mr.  Duffy  does  jusv  nonour)  contributes  to  the 
volume.  There  are  four  translations  by  him 
exhibiting  eminently  his  perfect  mastery  of  ver- 
sification^— his  flexibility  of  passion,  from  loneliest 
grief  to  the  maddest  humour.  One  of  these, 
“ The  Lament  for  O’Neill  and  O’Donnell,”  is  the 
strongest,  though  it  will  not  be  the  most  popular, 
ballad  in  the  work. 

Callanan’s  and  Ferguson’s  translations,  if  not 
so  daringly  versified,  are  simpler  and  more  Irish 
in  idiom. 

Most,  indeed,  of  Callanan’s  successful  ballads 
are  translations,  and  well  entitle  him  to  what  he 
passionately  prays  for — a minstrel  of  free  Erin 
to  come  to  his  grave — 

“ And  plant  a wild  wreath  from  the  banks  of  the  river. 
O’er  the  heart  and  the  harp  that  are  sleeping  for  ever." 


225'  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

But,  we  are  wrong  in  speaking  of  Mr.  Fer* 
guson’s  translations  in  precisely  the  same  way. 
His  “ Wicklow  War  Song”  is  condensed,  epi- 
grammatic, and  crashing  as  anything  we  know 
of,  except  the  “ Pibroch  of  Donnil  Dhu.” 

The  second  source  is — the  common  people’s 
ballads.  Most  of  these  “ make  no  pretence  to 
being  true  to  Ireland,  but  only  being  true  to  the 
purlieus  of  Cork  and  Dublin yet,  now  and 
then,  one  meets  a fine  burst  of  passion,  and 
oftener  a racy  idiom.  The  “ Drimin  Dhu,”  the 
“Blackbird,”  “Peggy  Bawn,”  “Irish  Molly,” 
“Willy  Reilly,”  and  the  “Fair  of  Turlough- 
more,”  are  the  specimens  given  here.  Of  these 
“ Willy  Reilly”  (an  old  and  worthy  favourite  in 
Ulster,  it  seems,  but  quite  unknown  elsewhere,) 
is  the  best ; but  it  is  too  long  to  quote,  and  we 
must  limit  ourselves  to  the  noble  opening  verse 
of  “ Turloughmor**” 

Come  tell  me,  dearest  mother,  what  makes  my  father 
stay, 

Or  what  can  be  the  reason  that  he’s  so  long  away  ? 

‘ Oh  ! hold  your  tongue,  my  darling  son,  your  tears  do 
grieve  me  sore, 

I fear  he  has  been  murdered  in  the  fair  of  Turlough- 
more.*  ” 

The  third  and  principal  source  consists  of  the 
Anglo-Irish  ballads,  written  during  the  last 
twenty  or  thirty  years. 

Of  this  highest  class,  he  who  contributes  mos* 
and,  to  our  mind,  best,  is  Mr.  Ferguson.  We 
have  already  spoken  of  his  translations — his  ori- 
ginal ballads  are  better.  There  is  nothing  in 
this  volume — nothing  in  “ Percy’s  Relics,”  or  the 


BALLAD  POETRY  OF  IRELAND.  227 


* Border  Minstrelsy,”  to  surpass,  perhaps  to  equal, 
41 Willy  Gilliland.”  It  is  as  natural  in  structure  as 
“Kinmont  Millie,”  as  vigorous  as  “ Otterbourne,” 
and  as  complete  as  “Lochinvar.”  Leaving  his 
Irish  idiom,  we  get  in  the  “ Forester’s  Com- 
plaint” as  harmonious  versification,  and,  in  the 
“Forging  of  the  Anchor,”  as  vigorous  thoughts, 
mounted  on  bounding  words,  as  anywhere  in 
English  literature. 

We  must  quote  some  stray  verses  from  “Willy 
Gilliland” 

“Up  in  the  mountain  solitudes,  and  in  a rebel  ring. 

He  has  worshipped  God  upon  the  hill,  in  spite  of  church 
and  king ; 

And  sealed  his  treason  with  his  blood  on  Both  well  bridge 
he  hath ; 

So  he  must  fly  his  father’s  land,  or  he  must  die  the 
death  ; 

For  comely  Claverhouse  has  come  along  with  grim 
Dalzell, 

And  his  smoking  rooftree  testifies  they’ve  done  their 
errand  well. 

• • • • 


“ His  blithe  work  done,  upon  a bank  the  outlaw  rested 
now, 

And  laid  the  basket  from  his  back,  the  bonnet  from  hit 
brow. 

And  there,  his  hand  upon  the  Book,  his  knee  upon  the 
sod, 

filled  the  lonely  valley  with  the  gladsome  word  of  God 
And  for  a persecuted  kirk*  and  for  her  martyrs  dear. 
And  against  a godless  t^iurch  and  king  he  spoke  up  loud 
and  clear. 


228  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

14  ‘ My  bonny  mare!  I’ve  ridden  you  when  Clavcr’ai 
rode  behind, 

And  from  the  thumbscrew  and  the  boot  you  bore  me  like 
the  wind  ; 

And,  while  I have  the  life  you  saved,  on  }Tour  sleek 
flank,  I swear, 

Episcopalian  rowel  shall  never  ruffle  hair! 

Though  sword  to  wield  they’ve  left  me  none — yet  Wallace 
wight,  I wis, 

Good  battle  did,  on  Irvine  side,  wi*  waur  weapon  than 
this.’ — 

“ His  fishing-rod  witn  both  his  hands  he  griped  it  as  he 
spoke, 

And,  where  the  butt  and  top  were  spliced,  in  pieces  twain 
he  broke ; 

The  limber  top  he  cast  away,  with  all  its  gear  abroad, 
But,  grasping  the  tough  hickory  butt,  with  spike  of  iron 
shod, 

He  ground  the  sharp  spear  to  a point ; then  pulled  his 
bonnet  down, 

And,  meditating  black  revenge,  set  forth  for  Carrick 
town.” 

The  only  ballad  equally  racy  is  “ The  Croppy 
Boy,”  by  some  anonymous  but  most  promising 
writer. 

Griffin’s  “Gille  Maehree,”  is  of  another  class — 
is  perfect — “ striking  on  the  heart,”  as  Mr.  Duffy 
linely  says,  “like  the  cry  of  a woman  but  his 

Orange  and  Green,”  and  his  “ Bridal  of  Mala- 
liide,”  belong  to  the  same  class,  and  suffer  by 
comparison  with  Mr.  Ferguson’s  ballads. 

Banim’s  greatest  ballad,  the  “ Soggarth  Aroon,” 
possesses  even  deeper  tenderness  and  a more  per- 
fect Irish  idiom  than  anything  in  the  volume. 

Among  the  collection  are  Colonel  Blacker’s 
fvnous  Orange  ballad,  “ Oliver’s  Advice”  (“Put 
your  trust  in  God,  my  boys,  but  keep  your  pow« 


BALLAU  POETRY  02*  IRELAND. 

der  dry,”)  and  two  versions  of  the  “ Boyne 
Water.”  The  latter  and  older  one,  given  in  the 
appendix,  is  by  far  the  finest,  and  contains  two 
unrivalled  stanzas : — 

“Both  foot  and  horse  they  marched  on,  intending  them 
to  batter, 

But  the  brave  Duke  Schomberg  he  was  shot,  as  he  crossed 
over  the  water. 

When  that  King  William  he  observed  the  brave  Duke 
Schomberg  falling, 

He  rein’d  his  horse,  with  a heavy  heart,  on  the  Ennis- 
kiileners  calling ; 

4 What  will  you  do  for  me,  brave  boys,  see  yonder  men 
retreating, 

Our  enemies  encouraged  are — and  English  drums  are 
beating 

He  says,  ‘ my  boys,  feel  no  dismay  at  the  losing  of  one 
commander, 

For  God  shall  be  our  King  this  day,  and  I’ll  be  general 
under.’  ” 

Nor  less  welcome  is  the  comment : — 

‘ Some  of  the  Ulster  ballads,  of  a restricted  and  pro- 
vincial spirit,  having  less  in  common  with  Ireland  than 
with  Scotland  ; two  or  three  Orange  ballads,  altogether 
ferocious  or  foreign  in  their  tendencies  (preaching  mur- 
der, or  deifying  an  alien),  will  be  no  less  valuable  to  the 
patriot  or  the  poet  on  this  account.  They  echo  faith- 
fully the  sentiments  of  a strong,  vehement,  and  indo- 
mitable body  of  Irishmen,  who  may  come  to  battle  for 
their  country  better  than  they  ever  battled  for  preju- 
dices or  their  bigotries.  At  all  events,  to  know  what 
they  love  and  believe  is  a precious  knowledge.” 

On  the  language  of  most  of  the  ballads,  Mr. 
Duffy  says  :~ 

“ Many  of  them,  and  generally  the  best,  are  just  as 
essentially  Irish  as  if  they  were  written  in  Gaelic.  They 
could  have  grown  among  no  other  people,  perhaps  under 


S30  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


no  other  sky  or  scenery.  To  an  Englishman,  to  any 
Irishman  educated  out  of  the  country,  or  to  a dreaitKil 
asleep  to  impressions  of  scenery  and  character,  thev 
would  be  achievements  as  impossible  as  the  Swedish 
Skalds  or  the  Arabian  Nights.  They  are  as  Irish  as 
Gssian  or  Carolan,  and  unconsciously  reproduce  the 
spirit  of  those  poets  better  than  any  translator  can  hope 

do.  They  revive  and  perpetuate  the  vehement  native 
songs  that  gladdened  the  halls  of  our  princes  in  theif 
triumphs,  and  wailed  over  their  ruined  hopes  or  mur- 
dered bodies.  In  everything  but  language,  and  almosl 
in  language,  they  are  identical.  That  strange  tenacity  oi 
the  Celtic  race  which  makes  a description  of  their  habits 
and  propensities  when  Caesar  was  still  a Proconsul  in 
Gaul,  true  in  essentials  of  the  Irish  people  to  this  day, 
has  enabled  them  to  infuse  the  ancient  and  hereditary 
spirit  of  the  country  into  all  that  is  genuine  of  our  mo- 
dern poetry.  And  even  the  language  grew  almost  Irish. 
The  soul  of  the  country  stammering  its  passionate  grid 
and  hatred  in  a strange  tongue,  loved  still  to  utter  them 
in  its  old  familiar  idioms  and  cadences.  Uttering  them, 
perhaps,  with  more  piercing  earnestness  because  of  tfia 
impediment  ; and  winning  out  of  the  very  difficulty  /* 
grace  and  a triumph. 

How  often  have  we  wished  for  such  a compa- 
nion as  this  volume.  Worse  than  meeting  un- 
clean beds,  or  drenching  mists,  or  Cockney 
opinions,  was  it  to  have  to  take  the  mountains 
with  a book  of  Scottish  ballads.  They  were 
glorious  to  be  sure,  but  they  were  not  ours,  they 
had  not  the  brown  of  the  climate  on  their  cheek, 
they  spoke  of  places  far,  and  ways  which  are  not 
our  country’s  ways,  and  hopes  which  were  not 
Ireland’s,  and  their  tongue  was  not  that  we  first 
made  sport  and  love  with.  Yet  how  mountaineer 
without  ballads,  any  more  than  without  a shille- 
lagh ? No  ; we  took  the  Scots  ballads,  and  felt 
©ur  souls  rubbing  away  with  envy  and  alienage 


A BALLAD  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND.  231 

amid  their  attentions  ; hut  now,  Brighid  be 
praised  ! we  can  have  all  Irish  thoughts  on  Irish 
hills,  true  to  them  as  the  music,  or  the  wind,  o t 
the  sky. 

Happy  boys  1 who  may  grow  up  with  such 
ballads  in  your  memories.  Happy  men  ! who 
will  find  your  hearts  not  only  dutiful  but  joyous, 
in  serving  and  sacrificing  for  the  country  you 
thus  learned  in  childhood  to  love.* 


A BALLAD  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND. 

Of  course  the  first  object  of  the  work  we  project  f 
will  be  to  make  Irish  History  famil  ar  to  the 
minds,  pleasant  to  the  ears,  dear  to  the  passions, 
and  powerful  over  the  taste  and  conduct  of  the 
Irish  people  in  times  to  comes.  More  evtnts  could 
be  put  into  a prose  history.  Exact  dates,  subtle 
plots,  minute  connexions  and  motives,  rarely 
appear  in  Ballads,  and  for  these  ends  the  worst 
prose  history  is  superior  to  the  best  Ballad  series  ; 
but  these  are  not  the  highest  ends  of  history.  To 
hallow  or  accurse  the  scenes  of  glory  and  honor, 
or  of  shame  and  sorrow ; to  give  to  the  imagina- 
tion the  arms,  and  homes,  and  senates,  and  battles 
of  other  days : to  rouse,  and  soften,  and  strengthen, 

* A corresponding  Essay  on  Songs,  written  by  Davis, 
will  be  found  prefixed  to  Mr.  Barry’s  collection  of  “ The 
Songs  of  Ireland.” — Ed. 

f It  had  been  proposed  in  the  Nation , by  another  con- 
tributor, to  write  ballads  on  the  great  events  in  our  annaU 
and  collect  them  into  a ‘ ‘ Ballad  History  of  Ireland.”  Ed. 


232  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

and  enlarge  us  with  the  passions  of  great  periods; 
to  lead  us  into  love  of  self-denial,  of  justice,  of 
beauty,  of  valour,  of  generous  life  and  proud  death; 
and  to  set  up  in  our  souls  the  memory  of  great 
men,  who  shall  then  be  as  models  and  judges  of 
our  actions — these  are  the  highest  duties  of  history, 
and  these  are  best  taught  by  a Ballad  History. 

A Ballad  History  is  welcome  to  childhood,  from 
its  rhymes,  its  high  colouring,  and  its  aptness  to 
memory.  As  we  grow  into  boyhood,  the  violent 
passions,  the  vague  hopes,  the  romantic  sorrow  of 
patriot  ballads  are  in  tune  with  our  fitful  and 
luxuriant  feelings.  In  manhood  we  prize  the 
condensed  narrative,  the  grave  firmness,  the 
critical  art,  and  the  political  sway  of  ballads. 
And  in  old  age  they  are  doubly  dear ; the  com- 
panions and  reminders  of  our  life,  the  toys  and 
teachers  of  our  children  and  grandchildren.  Every 
generation  finds  its  account  in  them.  They  pass 
from  mouth  to  mouth  like  salutations  ; and  even 
the  minds  which  lose  their  words  are  under  their 
influence,  as  one  can  recall  the  starry  heavens 
who  cannot  revive  the  form  of  a single  constella- 
tion. 

In  olden  times  all  ballads  were  made  to  music, 
and  the  minstrel  sang  them  to  his  harp  or  screamed 
them  in  recitative.  Thus  they  reached  farther, 
were  welcomer  guests  in  feast  and  camp,  and  were 
better  preserved.  We  shall  have  more  to  say  oif 
this  in  speaking  of  our  proposed  song  collection. 
Printing  so  multiplies  copies  of  ballads,  and  inter- 
course is  so  general,  that  there  is  less  need  of  this 
adaptation  to  music  now.  Moreover,  it  may  be 
disputed  whether  the  dramatic  effect  in  the  more 


A BALLAD  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND. 


*233 


solemn  ballads  is  not  injured  by  lyrical  forms. 
In  such  streaming  exhortations  and  laments  as 
we  find  in  the  Greek  choruses  and  in  the  adjura- 
tions and  caoines  of  the  Irish,  the  breaks  and 
parallel  repetitions  of  a song  might  lower  the 
passion.  Were  we  free  to  do  so,  we  could  point 
out  instances  in  the  Spirit  of  the  Nation  in  which 
the  rejection  of  song-forms  seems  to  have  been 
essential  to  the  awfulness  of  the  occasion. 

In  pure  narratives,  and  in  the  gayer  and  more 
slendid,  though  less  stern  ballads,  the  song  forms, 
and  adaptation  to  music  are  clear  gains. 

In  the  Scotch  ballads  this  is  usual,  in  the  English 
rare.  We  look  in  vain  through  Southey's  admi- 
rable ballads — “ Mary  the  Maid  of  the  Inn,” 
“ Jaspar,”  “ Inchkape  Rock,”  “ Bishop  Hatto,” 
“ King  Henry  V.  and  the  Hermit  of  iireux,” — 
for  either  burden,  chorus,  or  adaptation,  to  music. 
In  the  “ Battle  of  Blenheim  ” there  is,  however, 
an  occasional  burden  line  ; and  in  the  smashing 
“ March  to  Moscow  ” There  is  a great  chorussing 
about— 

“ Morbleu  ! Parbleu ! 

What  a pleasant  excursion  to  Moscow.*' 

Coleridge  has  some  skilful  repetitions,  and  ex- 
quisite versification,  in  his  “ Ancient  Mariner,” 
“ Genevieve,”  /4  Alice  du  Clos,”  but  no  where  a 
systematic  burden.  Campbell  has  no  burdens  in 
his  finest  lyric  ballads,  though  the  subjects  were 
fitted  for  them.  The  burden  of  the  46  Exile  of 
Erin  ” belongs  very  doubtfully  to  him. 

Macaulay's  best  ballad,  “ The  Battle  of  Ivry,” 
is  greatly  aided  by  the  even  burden  line ; but  he 
has  not  repeated  the  experiment,  though  he,  too, 


234  LITERACY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS*. 


makes  much  use  of  repeating  lines  in  his  Romaa 
Lays  and  other  ballads. 

While,  then,  we  counsel  burdens  in  Historical 
Ballads,  we  would  recognise  excepted  cases  where 
they  may  be  injurious,  and  treat  them  as  in  no 
case  essential  to  perfect  ballad  success.  In  songs, 
we  would  almost  always  insist  either  on  a chorus 
verse,  or  a burden  of  some  sort.  A burden  need 
not  be  at  the  end  of  the  verse  ; but  may,  with 
quite  equal  success,  be  at  the  beginning  or  in  the 
body  of  it,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  Scotch  Ballads, 
and  in  some  of  these  in  the  Spirit  of  the  Nation . 

The  old  Scotch  and  English  ballads,  and  Lock- 
harts translations  from  the  Spanish,  are  mostly 
composed  in  one  metre,  though  written  down  in 
either  of  two  ways.  Macaulay’s  Roman  Lays  and 
“ Ivry  ” are  in  this  metre.  Take  an  example  from 
the  last : — 

“Press  where  ye  see  my  white  plume  shine,  amid  the 
ranks  of  war, 

And  be  your  Oriflamme  to-day  the  helmet  of  Navarre.” 

In  the  old  ballads  this  would  be  printed  in  four 
lines,  of  eight  syllables  and  six  alternately,  and 
rhyming  only  alternately — thus  : — 

“ Press  where  ye  see  my  white  plume  shine, 

Amid  the  ranks  of  war, 

And  be  your  Oriflamme  to-day 
The  helmet  of  Navarre.” 

So  Macaulay  himself  prints  this  metre  in  some 
of  his  Roman  Lays. 

But  the  student  should  rather  avoid  than  seek 
this  metre.  The  uniform  old  beat  of  eight  and 
six  is  apt  to  fall  monotonously  on  the  ear,  ana 
some  of  the  most  startling  effects  are  lost  in  \\ 


A BALLAD  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND.  235 

In  the  Spirit  of  the  Nation  the  student  will  find 
many  other  ballad  metres.  Campbell's  metres, 
though  new  and  glorious  things,  are  terrible  traps 
to  imitation,  and  should  be  warily  used.  The 
German  ballads,  and  still  more,  Mr.  Mangan’s 
translations  of  them,  contain  great  variety  of  new 
and  safe,  though  difficult  metres.  Next  in  fre- 
quency to  the  fourteen  syllable  line  is  that  in 
eleven  syllables,  such  as  “ Mary  Ambree,”  and 
“ Lochinvar  ; ” and  for  a rolling  brave  ballad  'tis 
a fine  metre.  The  metre  of  fifteen  syllables,  with 
double  rhymes  (or  accents)  in  the  middle,  and 
that  of  thirteen,  with  double  rhymes  at  the  end, 
is  tolerably  frequent,  and  the  metre  used  by  Father 
Prout,  in  his  noble  translation  of  “ Duke 
d’Alencon,’’  is  admirable,  and  easier  than  it  seems. 
By  the  way,  what  a grand  burden  runs  through 
that  ballad — 

“Fools!  to  believe  the  sword  could  give  to  the  children 
of  the  Rhine, 

Our  Gallic  fields — the  land  that  yields  the  Olive  and  the 
Vine ! ” 

The  syllables  are  as  in  the  common  metre,  but 
it  has  thrice  the  rhymes. 

We  have  seen  great  materials  wasted  in  a 
struggle  with  acrotchetty  metre;  therefore,  though 
we  counsel  the  invention  of  metres,  we  would  add, 
that  unless  a metre  come  out  racily  and  appro- 
priately in  the  first  couple  of  verses,  it  should  be 
abandoned,  and  some  of  these  easily  marked  metres 
taken  up. 

A historical  ballad  will  commonly  be  narrative 
in  its  form  but  not  necessarily  so.  A hymn  of 
exultation — a call  to  a council,  an  army,  or  a 


236  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


people — a prophecy — a lament— or  a dramatic  scene 
(as  in  Lochiel),  may  give  as  much  of  event, 
costume,  character,  and  even  scenery,  as  a mere 
narration.  The  varieties  of  form  are  infinite,  and 
it  argues  lack  of  force  in  a writer  to  keep  always 
to  mere  narration,  though  when  exact  events  are 
to  be  told,  that  may  be  the  best  mode. 

One  of  the  essential  qualities  of  a good  historical 
ballad  is  truth.  To  pervert  history — to  violate 
nature,  in  order  to  make  a fine  clatter,  has  been 
the  aim  in  too  many  of  the  ballads  sent  us.  He 
who  goes  to  write  a historical  ballad  should  master 
the  main  facts  of  the  time,  and  state  them  truly. 
It  may  be  well  for  him  perhaps  either  not  to  study 
or  to  half-forget  minute  circumstances  until  after 
his  ballad  is  drafted  out,  lest  he  write  a chronicle, 
not  a ballad  ; but  he  will  do  well,  ere  he  suffer 
it  to  leave  his  study,  to  re-consider  the  facts  of 
the  time,  or  man,  or  act  of  which  he  writes,  and 
see  if  he  cannot  add  force  to  his  statements,  an 
antique  grace  to  his  phrases,  and  colour  to  his 
language. 

Truth  and  appropriateness  in  ballads  require 
great  knowledge  and  taste. 

To  write  an  Irish  historical  ballad,  one  should 
know  the  events  which  he  would  describe,  and 
know  them  not  merely  from  an  isolated  study  of 
his  subject,  but  from  old  familiarity,  which  shall 
have  associated  them  with  his  tastes  and  passions, 
and  connected  them  with  other  parts  of  history. 
How  miserable  a thing  it  is  to  put  forward  a piece 
of  vehement  declamation  and  vague  description, 
which  might  be  uttered  of  any  event,  or  by  the 
man  of  any  time,  as  a historical  ballad.  We  have 


A BALLAD  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND.  237 


had  battle  ballads  sent  ns  that  would  be  as  charac- 
teristic of  Marathon  or  Waterloo  as  of  Clontarf— 
laments  that  might  have  been  uttered  by  a German 
or  a Hindu — and  romances  equally  true  to  love 
all  the  world  over. 

Such  historical  study  extends  not  merely  to  the 
events.  A ballad  writer  should  try  to  find  the 
voice,  colour,  stature,  passions,  and  peculiar 
faculties  of  his  hero — the  arms,  furniture,  and 
dress  of  the  congress,  or  the  champions,  or  the 
troops,  he  tells  of — the  rites  wherewith  the  youth 
were  married — the  dead  interred,  and  God  wor- 
shipped ; and  the  architecture-previous  history 
and  pursuits  (and,  therefore,  probable  ideas  and 
phrases)  of  the  men  he  describes. 

Many  of  these  things  he  will  get  in  books. 
x should  shun  compilations,  and  take  up  original 
journals,  letters,  state  papers,  statutes,  and  cotem- 
porary fictions,  and  narratives,  as  much  as  possible. 
Let  him  not  much  mind  Leland  or  Curry  (after 
he  has  run  over  them),  but  work  like  fury  at  the 
Archaeological  Society’s  books — at  Harris’s  Hi- 
bernica,  at  Lodge’s  Desiderata  Curiosa  Hibernica, 
at  Stafford’s  Pacata,  Spenser’s  View,  Giraldus’s 
Narrative,  Fynes  Mory son’s  Itinerary,  the  Or- 
mond Papers,  the  State  Papers  of  Henry  the 
Eighth,  Strafford’s  and  Cromwell’s  and  Rinuncini’s 
Letters,  and  the  correspondence  and  journals, 
from  Donald  O’Neil’s  letter  to  the  Pope  down  to 
Wolfe  Tone’s  glorious  memoirs. 

In  the  songs,  and  even  their  names,  ma?iy  a 
fine  hint  can  be  got  ; and  he  is  not  likely  u>  oe  a 
perfect  BMladist  of  Ireland  who  ha3  not  led,  vi 


238  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

tears  and  laughter  the  deathless  passions  of  Irish 
music. 

We  have  condemned  compilations ; but  the 
ballad  student  may  well  labour  at  Ware’s  Anti- 
quities. He  will  find,  in  the  History  of  British 
Costume  published  by  the  Useful  Knowledge 
Society  and  in  the  illustrated  work  now  in  pro- 
gress, called  Old  England,  but,  beyond  all  other 
books,  in  the  historical  works  of  Thierry,  most 
valuable  materials.  Nothing — not  even  the 

Border  Minstrelsy,  Percy’s  Relics,  the  Jacobite 
Ballads,  or  the  Archaeological  Tracts — can  be  of 
6uch  service  as  a repeated  study  of  The  Norman 
Conquest,  The  Ten  Years’  Study,  and  The 
Merrovingian  Times  of  Augustine  Thierry. 

We  know  he  has  rashly  stated  some  events  on 
insufficient  authority,  and  drawn  conclusions 
beyond  the  warrant  of  his  premises  ; but  there  is 
more  deep  dramatic  skill,  more  picturesque  and 
coloured  scenery,  more  distinct  and  characteristic 
grouping,  and  more  lively  faith  to  the  look  and 
spirit  of  the  men  and  times  and  feelings  of  which 
lie  writes,  in  Thierry,  than  in  any  other  historian 
that  ever  lived.  He  has  almost  an  intuition  in 
favor  of  liberty,  and  his  vindication  of  the  “ men 
of ’98”  out  of  the  slanderous  pages  of  Musgrave 
is  a miracle  of  historical  skill  and  depth  of  judg- 
ment. 

In  the  Irish  Academy  in  Dublin  there  is  a 
collection  (now  arranged  and  rapidly  increasing) 
of  ancient  arms  and  utensils.  Private  collections 
exist  in  many  provincial  towns,  especially  in 
Ulster.  Indeed,  we  know  an  Orange  painter  in 


A BALLAD  HISTORY  OF  IRELAND.  239 


ft  northern  village  who  has  a finer  collection  of 
Irish  antiquities  than  all  the  Munster  cities  put 
together.  Accurate  observation  of,  and  discussion 
on,  such  collections,  will  be  of  vast  service  to  a 
writer  of  Historical  Ballads. 

Topography  is  also  essential  to  a ballad,  or  to 
any  Historian.  This  is  not  only  necessary  to 
save  a writer  from  such  a gross  blunder  as  we 
met  the  other  day  in  Wharton’s  Ballad,  called 
“ The  Grave  of  King  Arthur,”  where  he  talks  of 
“ the  steeps  of  rough  Kildare,”  but  to  give  ac- 
curacy and  force  to  both  general  references  and 
local  description. 

Ireland  must  be  known  to  her  Ballad  Historians, 
not  by  flat,  but  by  shaded  maps,  and  topographi- 
cal and  scenic  descriptions  ; not  by  maps  of  to-day 
only,  but  by  maps  (such  as  Ortelius  and  the  maps 
in  the  State  Papers)  of  Ireland  in  time  past ; and 
finally,  it  must  be  known  by  the  eye . A man 
who  has  not  raced  on  our  hills,  panted  on  our 
mountains,  waded  our  rivers  in  drought  and  flood, 
pierced  otir  passes,  skirted  our  coast,  noted  our 
old  towns,  and  learned  the  shape  and  colour  of 
ground  and  tree,  and  sky,  is  not  master  of  all  a 
Balladist’s  art.  Scott  knew  Scotland  thus,  and, 
moreover,  he  seems  never  to  have  laid  a scene  in 
a place  that  he  had  not  studied  closely  and  alone. 

What  we  have  heretofore  advised  relates  to  the 
Structure,  Truth,  and  Colouring  of  Ballads  ; but 
diere  is  something  more  needed  to  raise  a ballad 
above  the  beautiful — it  must  have  Force.  Strong 
passions,  daring  ivnention,  vivid  sympathy  for 
great  acts — these  are  the  result  of  one’s  whole  life 
and  nature.  Into  the  temper  and  training  of 


210  LITE II Alt Y AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


w A Poet,”  we  do  not  now  presume  to  speak.  Few 
have  spoken  wisely  of  them.  Emerson,  in  his 
recent  essay,  has  spoken  like  an  angel  on  the 
mission  of  “ The  Poet.”  Ambition  for  pure  power 
(not  applause) ; passionate  sympathy  with  the 
good,  and  strong,  and  beautiful ; insight  into  na- 
ture, and  such  loving  mastery  over  its  secrets  as 
a husband  hath  over  a wife’s  mind,  are  the  surest 
tests  of  one  “ called  ” by  destiny  to  tell  to  men 
the  past,  present,  and  future,  in  words  so  perfect 
that  generations  shall  feel  and  remember. 

We  merely  meant  to  give  some  “ Hints  on  the 
Properties  of  Historical  Ballads  ” — they  will  bo 
idle  save  to  him  who  has  the  mind  of  a Poet 


REPEAL  READING  ROOMS. 


24 


REPEAL  READING  ROOMS. 

Knowledge  and  organisation  must  set  Ireland 
free,  and  make  her  prosperous.  If  the  People 
be  not  wise  and  manageable,  they  cannot  gain 
liberty  but  by  accident,  nor  use  it  to  their  ser- 
vice. An  ignorant  and  turbulent  race  may  break 
away  from  provincialism,  but  will  soon  relapse 
beneath  a cunning,  skilful,  and  unscrupulous 
neighbour.  England  is  the  one — Ireland  must 
not  be  the  other. 

If  she  is  to  be  self-freed — if  she  is  not  to  be  a 
retaken  slave,  she  must  acquire  all  the  faculties 
possessed  by  her  enemy,  without  the  vices  of  that 
foe.  We  have  to  defeat  an  old  and  compact  go- 
vernment. We  must  acquire  the  perfect  struc- 
ture of  a nation.  We  have  to  resist  genius,  skill, 
and  immense  resources ; we  must  have  wisdom, 
knowledge,  and  ceaseless  industry. 

We  want  the  advisers  of  the  People  never  for 
a day  to  forget  these  facts,  that  of  persons  above 
five  years  old,  there  are  829,000  females  and 

580.000  males  who  can  only  read,  but  cannot 
write ; and  that  above  the  same  age,  there  are 

2.142.000  females  and  1,623,000  males  who  can 
neither  read  nor  write.  Let  them  remember, 
too,  that  the  arts  of  design  do  not  exist  here — 
that  the  leading  economical  difference  between 
England  and  Ireland  is  the  “ industrial  ignorance 
of  the  latter” — that  we  have  little  military  or 

Q 


242  LITERARY  AN»>  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 


naval  instruction — and  that  our  literature  is  only 
beginning  to  bud. 

We  are  not  afraid  for  all  these  things,  nor  do 
we  wish  to  muffle  our  eyes  against  them.  Wo 
want  a brave,  modest,  laborious,  and  instructed 
People.  It  is  deep  pleasure  to  serve,  and  glorv 
to  lead  such  a People.  It  is  still  deeper  pleasure 
and  honour  to  head  a race  full  of  virtue  and  in- 
dustry, and  a thirst  for  knowledge.  But  for  a 
swaggering  People,  who  shout  for  him  who  flat- 
ters them,  and  turn  from  those  who  would  lead 
by  plain,  manful  truth — who  shall  save  them? 

The  Repeal  Association  has  fronted  the  diffi- 
culty. You,  it  tells  the  People,  are  not  educated 
nor  organised  as  you  should  be.  Your  oppressor 
has  millions,  cunning  in  all  arts  and  manufac- 
tures, for  your  thousands.  Her  literature  is 
famous  among  men — your’s  still  to  be  created. 
Her  organisation  embraces  everything,  from  the 
machinery  for  moving  an  empire  to  that  of  go- 
verning a parish.  You,  too,  must  learn  arts, 
and  literature,  and  self-government,  if  you  would 
repel  and  surpass  her. 

The  generation  that  will  cover  Ireland  in 
twenty  years  will  have  the  instruction  you  want, 
but  you  must  not  surrender  your  claim  to  know- 
ledge and  liberty.  You,  too,  must  go  to  school 
and  learn.  You  must  learn  to  obey.  You  must 
learn  from  each  other,  and  obey  the  highest  wis- 
dom that  is  among  you  all. 

The  Repeal  Association  has  resolved  that  it  is 
expedient  to  establish  Reading-rooms  in  the  Pa- 
rishes of  Ireland,  and  has  appointed  a Committee 
to  carry  out  that  resolution. 


REPEAL  READING  ROOMS. 


243 


This  is  a great  undertaking.  A meeting,  a 
gossip,  or  eloquent  circular,  wi.ll  not  accomplish 
it.  It  will  take  months  of  labour  from  strong 
minds,  and  large  sums  of  money,  to  establish 
such  a system  ; and  only  by  corresponding  zeal 
on  the  People’s  part  can  it  be  spread  among 
them  all. 

The  Repeal  Association  has  now  constituted 
itself  Schoolmaster  of  the  People  of  Ireland,  and 
must  be  prepared  to  carry  out  its  pretension. 
The  People,  knowing  the  attempt,  must  sustain 
it  with  increased  funds  and  zeal. 

A Reading-room  Committee  must  not  stop  its 
preliminary  labours  till  there  is  a Reading-room 
in  every  village  ; and  then  it  will  fill  their  hands 
and  draw  largely  on  their  funds  to  make  them 
Reading-rooms,  and  not  idling  rooms.  Their 
first  duty  will  be,  of  course,  to  ascertain  what 
Reading-rooms  exist — how  each  of  them  is  sup- 
ported— what  books,  maps,  &c.,  it  contains — at 
what  hours  it  is  open — and  how  it  is  attended. 
For  each  separate  School — we  beg  pardon,  Read- 
ing-room— the  Committee  should  make  separate 
arrangements.  One  will  want  increased  space, 
another  will  want  industrial  books,  another  maps, 
another  political  and  statistical  tracts. 

T o the  districts  where  the  Irish  language  is 
spoken,  they  should  send  a purely  Irish  Gram- 
mar and  an  Anglo-Irish  Grammar  and  Dic- 
tionary for  each  room,  to  be  followed  by  other 
works  containing  general  information,  as  well  as 
peculiarly  Irish  knowledge,  in  Irish.  Indeed, 
doubt  if  the  Association  can  carry  out  tho 
plan — which  they  began  by  sending  down  Dr. 


244  LITERARY"  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

MacHale’s  translations — without  establishing  a 
newspaper,  partly  in  English  and  partly  in  Irish, 
like  the  mixed  papers  of  Switzerland,  New  Or- 
leans, and  Hungary. 

To  come  back,  however,  to  the  working  of 
such  a Committee.  Some  of  its  members  should 
attend  from  day  to  day  to  correspond  with  the 
Repeal  Inspectors,  and  the  Protestant  and  Ca- 
tholic Clergy,  who  may  consent  to  act  as  patrons 
of  these  Rooms.  It  will  be  most  desirable  that  each 
Committee  have  an  agent  in  Dublin,  who  will 
receive  and  forward  gratis  all  books  for  it.  The 
cost  of  postage  would  absorb  the  price  of  a 
library. 

It  seems  to  us  to  be  almost  necessary  to  have 
persons  sent  round  the  country  from  time  to  time 
to  organize  these  Reading  Committees — to  fix, 
from  inspection,  the  amount  of  help  which  the 
Association  should  give  to  the  rent  of  each  room, 
and  to  stimulate  the  People  to  fresh  exertion. 
This,  of  course,  could  be  united  with  a Repeal 
missionary  system,  on  the  same  plan  as  the 
“ Anti-Corn  Law  League”  missions. 

Help  should  be  given  by  the  Association  in 
some  proportion  to  the  local  subscriptions  (say  a 
third  of  them),  or  the  Association  might  under- 
take to  supply  a certain  amount  of  books  upon 
proof  of  a local  subscription  large  enough,  and 
sufficiently  secured,  for  the  wants  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood. 

A catalogue  of  the  books  sent  to  each  Room 
should  be  always  accessible  in  the  Corn  Ex- 
change. 

Of  course,  in  sending  books  a regular  system 


REPEAL  READING  KOoMS 


243 


should  be  adopted.  The  Ordnance  index  map  0/ 
the  county,  the  townland  map  of  the  neighbour- 
hood, a map  of  Ireland,  and  maps  of  the  five 
great  sections  of  the  globe  (Asia,  America,  Aus- 
tralia, Europe,  and  Africa),  should  be  in  every 
Room.  Of  course,  the  Reports  of  the  Associa- 
tion will  be  there  ; and  they,  we  trust,  will  soon 
be  a perfect  manual  of  the  industrial  statistics, 
topography,  history,  and  county,  municipal,  and 
general  institutions  of  Ireland.  Much  has  been 
done,  and  the  Parliamentary  Committee  consists 
of  men  who  are  able  and  willing  to  carry  out 
their  work.  What  other  works,  fitted  to  'culti- 
vate the  judgment  or  taste  of  the  People,  may  be 
sent,  must  depend  on  the  exertions  of  the  parishes 
and  the  faithfulness  of  the  Committee. 

Were  such  a Room  in  every  village,  you  would 
soon  have  a knot  connected  with  it  of  young  men 
who  had  abjured  cards,  tobacco,  dissipation,  and 
more  fatal  laziness,  and  were  trying  to  learn 
each  some  science,  or  art,  or  accomplishment— 
anything  that  best  pleased  them,  from  mathe- 
matics to  music.  We  shall  feel  unspeakable  sor- 
row if,  from  the  negligence  of  the  Committee  or 
the  dulness  or  want  of  spirit  in  our  country 
towns,  this  great  opportunity  pass  away. 


246  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESS*  If 


INFLUENCES  OF  EDUCATION. 

“ Educate,  that  you  may  be  free.”  We  are 
most  anxious  to  get  the  quiet,  strong-minded 
People  who  are  scattered  through  the  country  to 
see  the  force  of  this  great  truth  ; and  we  therefore 
ask  them  to  listen  soberly  to  us  for  a few  mi- 
nutes, and  when  they  have  done,  to  think  and 
talk  again  and  again  over  what  we  say. 

If  Ireland  had  all  the  elements  of  a nation,  she 
might,  and  surely  would,  at  once  assume  the 
forms  of  one,  and  proclaim  her  independence. 
Wherein  does  she  now  differ  from  Prussia  ? She 
has  a strong  and  compact  territory,  girt  by  the 
sea  ; Prussia’s  lands  are  open  and  flat,  and  flung 
loosely  through  Europe,  without  mountain  or 
river,  breed,  or  tongue,  to  bound  them.  Ireland 
has  a military  population  equal  to  the  recruitment 
of,  and  a produce  able  to  pay  a first-rate  army. 
Her  harbours,  her  soil,  and  her  fisheries,  are  not 
surpassed  m Europe. 

Wherein,  we  ask  again,  does  Ireland  now  dif- 
fer from  Prussia  ? Why  can  Prussia  wave  her 
flag  among  the  proudest  in  Europe,  while  Ire- 
land is  a farm  ? 

It  is  not  in  the  name  of  a kingdom,  nor  in  the 
formalities  of  independence.  We  could  assume 
them  to-morrow — we  could  assume  them  with 


INFLUENCES  OF  EDUCATION. 


241 


better  warrants  from  history  and  nature  than 
Prussia  holds ; but  the  result  of  such  assumption 
would  perchance  be  a miserable  defeat. 

The  difference  is  in  Knowledge.  Were  the 
offices  of  Prussia  abolished  to-morrow — her  col- 
leges and  schools  levelled — her  troops  disarmed 
and  disbanded,  she  would  within  six  months  re- 
gain her  whole  civil  and  military  institutions 
Ireland  has  been  struggling  for  years,  and  may 
have  to  struggle  many  more,  to  acquire  liberty  to 
form  institutions. 

Whence  is  the  difference?  Knowledge! 

The  Prussians  could,  at  a week’s  notice,  have 
their  central  offices  at  full  work  in  any  village  in 
the  kingdom,  so  exactly  known  are  their  statistics, 
and  so  general  is  official  skill.  Minds  make  ad- 
ministration— all  the  desks,  and  legers,  and  pow- 
ers of  Downing-street  or  the  Castle  would  be 
handed  in  vain  to  the  ignorants  of any  un- 

taught district  in  Ireland.  The  Prussians  could 
open  their  collegiate  classes  and  their  professional 
and  elementary  schools  as  fast  as  the  order 
therefor,  from  any  authority  recognized  by  the 
People,  reached  town  after  town — we  can  hardly 
in  ten  years  get  a few  schools  open  for  our  peo- 
ple, craving  for  knowledge  as  they  are.  The 
Prussians  could  re-arm  their  glorious  militia  in 
a month,  and  re-organize  it  in  three  days ; for 
the  mechanical  arts  are  very  generally  known, 
military  science  is  familiar  to  most  of  the  weal- 
thier men,  discipline  and  a soldier’s  skill  are 
universal.  If  we  had  been  offered  arms  to  de- 
fend Ireland  by  Lord  Heytesbury,  as  the  Vo- 


LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  E8SAYU. 


lunteers  were  by  Lord  Buckinghamshire,  wa 
would  have  had  to  seek  for  officers  and  drill- 
6erjeants — though  probably  we  could  more  ra- 
pidly advance  in  arms  than  anything  else,  from 
the  military  taste  and  aptness  for  war  of  the 
Irish  People. 

Would  it  not  be  better  for  us  to  be  like  the 
Prussians  than  as  we  are — better  to  have  reli- 
gious squabbles  unknown,  education  universal, 
the  People  fed,  and  clad,  and  housed,  and  inde- 
pendent, as  becomes  men  ; the  army  patriotic 
and  strong  ; the  public  offices  ably  administered  ; 
the  nation  honoured  and  powerful  ? Are  not 
these  to  be  desired  and  sought  by  Protestant 
and  Catholic  ? Are  not  these  things  to  be  done> 
if  we  are  good  and  brave  men  ? And  is  it  not 
plain , from  what  we  have  said,  that  the  rea 
son  for  our  not  being  all  that  Prussia  is,  and 
something  more,  is  ignorance — want  of  civil  and 
military  and  general  knowledge  amongst  all 
classes  ? 

This  ignorance  has  not  been  our  fault,  but  our 
misfortune.  It  was  the  interest  of  our  rider  to 
keep  us  ignorant,  that  we  might  be  weak : and 
she  did  so — first,  by  laws  prohibiting  education  ; 
then,  by  refusing  any  provision  for  it ; next,  by 
perverting  it  into  an  engine  of  bigotry ; and 
now,  by  giving  it  in  a stunted,  partial,  anti- 
national way.  Practice  is  the  great  teacher, 
and  the  possession  of  independence  is  the  na- 
tural and  best  way  for  a People  to  learn  all 
that  pertains  to  freedom  and  happiness.  Our 
greatest  voluntary  efforts,  aided  by  the  amplest 


*t*FLtn£i\CES  Os'  Ifiut^ATION.  24Q 

provincial  institutions,  would  teach  us  less  iu 
a century  than  we  would  learn  in  five  years  of 
Liberty. 

In  insisting  on  education,  we  do  not  argue 
against  the  value  of  immediate  independence . 
That  would  he  our  best  teacher . An  Irish  Go- 
vernment and  a national  ambition  would  be  to 
our  minds  as  soft  rains  and  rich  sun  to  a growing 
crop.  But  we  insist  on  education  for  the  Peo- 
ple, whether  they  get  it  from  the  Government 
or  give  it  to  themselves,  as  a round-about,  and, 
yet,  the  only  means  of  getting  strength  enough 
to  gain  freedom. 

Do  our  readers  understand  this  ? Is  what  we 
have  said  clear  to  you , reader ! — whether  you 
are  a shopkeeper  or  a lawyer,  a farmer  or  a doc- 
tor ? If  not,  read  it  over  again,  for  it  is  your 
own  fault  if  it  be  not  clear.  If  you  now  know 
our  meaning,  you  must  feel  that  it  is  your  duty 
to  your  family  and  to  yourself,  to  your  country 
and  to  God,  to  act  upon  it,  to  go  and  remove 
gome  of  that  ignorance  which  makes  you  and 
your  neighbours  weak,  and  therefore  makes 
Ireland  a poor  province. 

All  of  us  have  much  to  learn,  but  some  of  us 
have  much  to  teach. 

To  those,  who,  from  superior  energy  and  abi- 
lity, can  teach  the  People,  we  now  address  our- 
selves. 

We  have  often  before,  and  shall  often  again 
repeat,  that  the  majority  of  our  population  can 
neither  read  nor  write,  and  therefore  that  from 
jhe  small  minority  must  come  those  fitted  to  bs 


‘^30  LITERARY  AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

of  any  civil  or  military  use  beyond  the  lowest 
rank.  The  People  may  be  and  are  honest,  brave, 
and  intelligent ; but  a man  oould  as  well  dig  with 
his  hands,  as  govern,  or  teach,  or  lead,  without 
the  elements  of  Knowledge. 

This,  however,  is  a defect  which  time  and 
the  National  Schools  must  cure ; and  the  duty 
of  the  class  to  which  we  speak  is  to  urge  the 
establishment  of  such  Schools,  the  attendance  of 
the  children  a U them,  and  occasionally  to  observe 
and  report,  either  directly  or  through  the  press, 
whether  the  admirable  rules  of  the  Board  are  at- 
tended to.  In  most  cases,  too,  the  expenditure 
of  a pound  note  and  a little  time  and  advice 
would  give  the  children  of  a school  that  instruc- 
tion in  national  history  and  in  statistics  so  shame- 
fully omitted  by  the  Board.  Header ! will  you 
do  this  ? 

Then,  of  the  three  hundred  Repeal  Reading- 
rooms  we  know  that  some,  and  fear  that  many 
are  ill-managed,  have  few  or  no  books,  and  are 
mere  gossiping-rooms.  Such  a room  is  useless; 
such  a room  is  a disgrace  to  its  members  and 
their  educated  neighbours.  The  expense  having 
been  gone  to  of  getting  a room,  it  only  remains 
for  the  members  to  establish  fixed  rules,  and  they 
will  be  supplied  with  the  Association  Reports 
(political  reading  enough  for  them),  and  it  will 
be  the  plain  duty  of  the  Repeal  Wardens  to  bring 
to  such  a room  the  newspapers  supplied  by  the 
Association.  If  such  a body  continue  and  give 
proofs  of  being  in  earnest,  the  Repeal  Associa- 
tion will  aid  it  by  gifts  of  books,  maps,  &c.s  aad 


INFLUENCES  OP  EDUCATION. 


251 


thus  a library,  the  centre  of  knowledge  and  n jr- 
Bery  of  useful  and  strong  minds,  will  be  made  in 
that  district.  So  miserably  off  is  the  country  for 
books,  that  we  have  it  before  us,  on  some  autho- 
rity, that  there  are  ten  counties  in  Ireland  with- 
out a single  bookseller  in  them . We  blush  for 
the  fact ; it  is  a disgrace  to  us  ; but  we  must 
have  no  lying  nor  flinching.  There  is  the  hard 
fact ; let  us  face  it  like  men  who  are  able  for  a 
difficulty — not  as  children  putting  their  heads 
under  the  clothes  when  there  is  danger.  Reader ! 
cannot  you  do  something  to  remedy  this  great, 
this  disabling  misery  of  Ireland?  Will  not  you 
now  try  to  get  up  a Repeal  Reading-room,  and,, 
when  one  is  established,  get  for  it  good  rules, 
books  from  the  Association,  and  make  it  a centre 
of  thought  and  power? 

These  are  but  some  of  the  ways  in  which  such 
service  can  be  doi.e  hv  the  more,  for  the  less, 
educated.  They  have  otner  uuties,  often  pointed 
out  by  us.  They  can  sustain  and  advance  the 
different  societies  for  promoting  agriculture,  ma- 
nufactures, art,  and  literature,  in  Dublin  and 
the  country.  They  can  set  on  foot,  and  guide 
the  establishment  of  Temperance  Bands  and 
Mechanics’  Institutes,  and  Mutual  Instruction 
Societies.  They  can  give  advice  and  facilities 
for  improvement  to  young  men  of  promise  ■ and 
they  can  make  their  circles  studious,  refined,  and 
ambitious,  instead  of  being,  like  too  many  in 
Ireland — ignorant,  coarse,  or  lazy.  The  cheap- 
ness of  books  is  now  such,  that  even  Irish  po« 


252  LITER  ATI  Y AND  HISTORICAL  ESSAYS. 

verty  is  no  excuse  for  Irish  ignorance — that 
ignorance  which  prostrates  us  before  England, 
We  must  help  ourselves,  and  therefore  we  mint 
educate  ourselves. 


THE^EHDi 


* 


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a 


BOSTON  COLLEGE 


903 


1 027  5120 


<41541 


BOSTON  COLLEGE  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  HEIGHTS 
CHESTNUT  HILL,  MASS. 

Books  may  be  kept  for  two  weeks  and  may 
be  renewed  for  the  same  period,  unless  re- 
served. 

Two  cents  a day  is  charged  for  each  book 
kept  overtime. 

If  you  cannot  find  what  you  want,  ask  the 
Librarian  who  will  be  glad  to  help  you. 

The  borrower  is  responsible  for  books  drawn 
on  his  card  and  for  all  fines  accruing  on  the 


same. 


